Hnagvoer

I never learn.
You plan to be sensible but the siren call is always too hard to resist, and several glasses later you're in bed too early or on the bathroom floor.
In the morning, you rub your belly and through fuzzy teeth, say sorry to your stomach for what you've put it through.
Your eyeballs seem unusually firm and every sound is magnified.
You wonder if the time will ever come when you can have food again.
Everyone has their idea of a 'cure' : tea, coffee, bacon sandwiches or a greasy fried breakfast.
I can't seem to stomach just water when feeling, um, delicate, so I go for another time-honoured remedy, at least in Scotland: Irn-Bru. It needs to be ice cold and sipped slowly until its magical properties (hopefully) take effect.
Because being hungover is essentially being really dehydrated (oh the irony), salty foods (when you are fit for them) are good - so bacon, salty scrambled eggs and sausages wouldn't be a bad idea.
However I prefer the more easily-prepared dish of salt 'n' vinegar Squares.
And there is nothing quite like the moment when you do have your appetite back; or when you can appreciate being at full heath; when you tell yourself, optimistically, resolutely and full of wisdom, that you will never drink again.
But you will and you will do it to excess.
Or at least I will. Because I never learn.

“I feel sorry for people who don't drink. 

When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.”

Frank Sinatra