Over the years I would say I’ve run the gamut of hangovers: the sucker punch that you thought you’d got away with; the guilt-laden, teary, soul-sapper; the nauseating, painful, sickener; the dreamy, floaty giggler; the detached, untouchable, isolator; the ratty, grumpy bastard… but nothing like this. Everything was in super-sharp relief, colours and sounds were acute, extraordinarily acute. And the area in and above my left eye, pain. Oh lord, pain!
now you know what it feels like to be me - your drinking at high altitude is the equivalent of me at ground level.
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