This was a weekend of spontaneity. Thursday night, my best friend and I decided to road trip to Gainesville, Fl first thing Friday morning. One of my other best friends & sister go to school there, so we had plenty of places to stay so last minute. We also had nothing school-related to worry about because of #Irma. RIP.
Friday night was a shit show (in the best way possible); drinks were $0.50. Yes. Fifty f*cking cents. Needless to say, everyone I was with ended up extremely drunk. Saturday morning’s hangover was masked by a harsh reality: Game Day. I woke my hungover ass up at 8:30 a.m. and tried to shower the pain away. It helped a little. So did my leftover pizza and Aleve.
Game Day came and went, and plenty of platties (common college lingo referring to Bud Light Platinum- a less shitty version of the classic tailgating beer) were consumed… along with a shot of Aguardiente that I had to try really hard to keep down. That hangover I tried to suppress was slowly creeping its way back into my life- and I knew I’d soon be miserable. I tried napping before going out at night- but my headache was massive. I put my big girl pants on, ate some pasta, and got ready to go out. I went out with my little sister and her friends, which was interesting. Sidenote: let’s all get past the champagne shower phase. No one likes being wet and sticky in the club. Literally no one.
Keep reading to laugh at my Sunday morning misery.
Not only was I extremely hungover on Sunday, but I had to drive five hours back to Miami. Thank the Lord my friend drove down the whole way- I wouldn’t have made it.
We walked downstairs from my sisters apartment to find my friend’s car had been towed. Freaking awesome, right? We waited inside a Publix (the Publix that had our car towed- NOT a pleasure if you ask me) for my sister to come scoop us up to take us to the towing company. Suddenly, an unavoidable wave of nausea came over me. I knew it. My time was done. I found the bathroom and immediately started puking in the toilet. There was someone in the stall next to me and I felt so bad that she was listening to my throw up sounds. That in it of itself would have made me puke. She’s a trooper. I puked a lot and when I walked out of the stall, my eyes were bloodshot, teary, and I looked like defeat. I composed myself (as much as I could) and was gifted with the presence of a cute kid I went to high school with. Goals, right? I shoved a croissant down my throat to absorb any left over stomach acid and my sister pulled up outside. We picked up my friend’s car and went to eat breakfast.
I’m about to tell you a secret. Don’t tell anyone, promise? My hangover was still so bad at this point that… I… ate bacon. I know. I’m terrible. I was too hungover to be a vegetarian. I would have DIED without the bacon. Dramatic? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely.
Warning: graphic image below
There you have it- part three. We made it back to Miami safely and soundly, and I’m currently still sleep deprived. Hope you enjoyed laughing at my misery. Laughter is the only way to get through it… or not drinking- but no.
Shotgun a beer in my honor your next game day!