(HTD) With Being Hungover

Since we know that the best writer's pull from experience we figure why not write about hangovers right when we have them! Just like a majority of young adults, when you wake up on a Saturday or, like, a Wednesday morning, you're always hungover as fuck from the night before. Usually, your hair is tangled, your makeup is smudged, and when you look in the mirror you basically look like the fucking exorcist girl.

Our fave part of hangovers is the massive headache and the horrible nausea. It's fab. While in most rich bitch cases, hangovers means you get to stay at home and do nothing all day until you have to go out that night, most normal people have to get the fuck up and go to work. Whether it be your real job, or working at fucking Kmart, we know how much it sucks when your head is pounding and you can't remember where you left your underwear the night before.

Going to work hungover is fucking horrible and way worse then going to class hungover; at least in class you can sit in a desk way in the back and pass the fuck out. So for those of you working gals who aren't "poor", as most bitches associate girls who work, and are just trying to pay your fucking rent, we have a couple ways on how to deal with going to work hungover.

Big. Fucking. Sunglasses: They're our life savers. Without them, our eyes would be singed out of our heads from the bright ass light of the sun. Big sunglasses are perfect because they hide your blood shot, watery eyes which are screaming "I went out and got fucked up last night" and nobody really bothers you when you're walking around in them. Of course, you have to take them off when you actually get to work, but at least you got there with little trouble.

Coffee: We don't care about the people who love eating when they're hungover, we're not those people. Sorry, but if you come near us with a fucking toasted bagel we're going to throw up on your ugly shoes. We love, however, huge fucking coffees. It depends on our mood, but we usually go with that fucking obscene 30 ounce from Starbucks and fill it to the brim with delicious iced caramel goodness (skinny, of course, because 10 calories less is worth it...).

Tell everyone to fuck off: If you don't work in a customer service job, lucky fucking you. You don't have to deal with performance and basically being nice to people you have to be nice to or you'd get fired. If that's your case, sit in your fucking cubicle, put those sunglasses back on and do whatever it is the fuck they pay you a dollar more than minimum wage to do. If you work at any fast food place, we cry for you, because we can only imagine what it's like to deal with Hannah the 300 pound dieter showing you that there's no mayo on her McChicken and she's fucking pissed.

We don't believe in any mixture of drinks that "cure" a hangover. There is no cure for a hangover. It's your fucking punishment for going out the night before and being a little sluttier than you would have been if you were sober. You can choke down some pepto if you're really desperate, but odds are you'll be throwing that up by lunch time. Just remember, you got really fucking wasted, laughed a lot with your friends and finally got the drunk-girl courage to go up to that guy from class and tell him you think he's, in the words of a severely drunk girl, 'soooooo cahyoot'.

Till tomorrow,

HTD #05: Hangovers are just the horrible balance for how fucking good of a night you had.