Hangover

If I am being open and honest about my life, then I have to admit that today I have a hangover. This is a rare and unusual experience for me. I simply cannot remember the last time I woke up feeling this way, with a headache, with a mouth that feels like it is full of cotton, with my body feeling like it is rejecting me. I am channeling my Dad with that last statement; he responded to his many hangovers with that statement.

Of course the cause of this is alcohol, in the form of a wonderful bottle of Scotch. Yesterday my friend Chris Gordon arrived from Vancouver and took me shopping at my favourite liquor store. Actually he didn't take me in; I stayed in the truck. He knows well what I like, and he bought it for me. I, being the greedy, uncontrolled person that I am, drank half of the bottle last night. Happily enough, Chris helped with the other half.

Unfortunately his flight arrived late, so we got a late start to our evening of story telling, Scotch drinking, and general hijinks. Fortunately I neither burst a catheter nor spilled a drop. So here I am, shaking, not knowing if it's the hangover or if it's ALS. I know I shake pretty good when I don't have a hangover, so the shaking I will ascribe as normal. The rest of me is in rebellion internally.

Even this is a good thing. I am still here. I can still tie one on. I can still sleep one off. I am still functioning today. This hangover is a reminder that I have not lost everything in my life. I know it's hard to think of a hangover as a good thing, but it seems to me that I can still do it, and that is a good thing. Whether or not I should do it is a subject of some debate. I leave that to the morality of others. For me, I am up and about, feeling like shit dragged over a log, unable to get my head to stop pounding, desperately needing another cup of coffee. Ain't it grand!