50 Thoughts Everyone Has The Morning After
Am I dying? Am I dead?
Ah, the morning after. It usually involves waking up, realising how ridiculously hungover you are and then feeling that same ol' anxiousness feeling in the pit of your stomach that you’ve done or said something outrageous, thanks to your frenemy and ours: Mr Tequila.
You swear you’ll never put yourself through this again, all while knowing it’s probably going to happen next weekend (and the weekend after).
Here’s 50 thoughts that’ll probably enter your mind when you wake up bleary-eyed and slightly confused about what happened the night before. Seriously, even thinking about it is giving us flashbacks.
HEAD HURTS HEAD HURTS HEAD HURTS.
Where am I? Okaaaaay, this is definitely not my bedroom.
Wha… WHO is this person laying next to me?
Oh god. I do vaguely remember texting the ex last night.
And the stranger laying in bed with me right now is definitely not them.
I’ve sent 17 frantic messages to the group chat, but no response. WAKE UP GODDAMMIT.
*hiccup* Ok I’m definitely still a teeny bit drunk.
But also everything hurts and I think I’m dying.
Am I dead?
Why is there ketchup in my hair? Oh wait, flashbacks of the 3am doner kebab detour are coming back.
Seriously, how much did I drink last night?!
Oh God, the stranger next to me is stirring.
I must leave to save us both the awkward small talk.
Can I get away with rocking last night’s smeared makeup as some sort of new SS17 beauty trend?
Tough, it’s all I have right now. THERE’S NO TIME.
Stranger’s housemate definitely just spotted me as I ran out the door. Oops.
Oh good now I’m doing the walk of shame, heels in hand and everything.
Why is it so bright outside? Can someone please turn the sun off for a moment?
Who does this old man on the bus think he is judging?
Don’t judge me YOU JUDGY JUDGERSON.
But yes my face is one massive mascara smudge and I’m barefoot right now so I can understand why I look a little strange.
Thank the lord I’m nearly home but I'm somehow feeling worse.
I am literally sweating vodka tonic out of my pores.
Think I’m gonna be sick.
No, no, it's fine. I can do this. I am the master of my own stomach.
*Vomits in nearest bin* - this could be the lowest point of my life to date.
If my parents could see me now. I have brought shame on myself and my family. Sorry mum.
*Snapchats picture of sick to send on the group chat* Hehehehehe the girls will appreciate this though.
FINALLY home. Phew.
Key member of the friendship group has arisen and all he has to say is: ‘YOU WERE SUCH A STATE LAST NIGHT’. Gee, thanks.
He's also managed to upload 12 unflattering pictures of me onto Facebook. Don't even get me started on everyone's Snapchat stories.
GREAT. I hate myself.
I am honestly NEVER drinking again in my whole entire life.
From here on in, I will become a classy, sophisticated human who campaigns to stop everyone embarrassing themselves when drunk by banning all shots from every bar in the land.
Smile. Through. The. Pain.
Where are my housemates? I need company.
I need coffee. And pizza. And a whole load of melted cheese. AND A SHOWER.
And someone to stroke my hair and tell me it’s all going to be ok.
I hope someone finds me before I die.
Imagine ‘death by hangover’ being on my death certificate?
But it was actually a pretty good night.
And to be fair, the pictures are HILARIOUS.
The gang are going out for drinks again tonight but I don't think it's a good idea to join.
Or is it the best idea ever?
Ah who am I kidding... I’m going out.
Wow. Sweet, sweet alcohol.
ALCOHOL IS GREAT.
Now why not check out a bunch of guys taking the most awkward, sex-themed game of Would You Rather ever...?