Step inside a frat house on a Friday night and you’re greeted by the thumping bass of dance music, an epileptic display of lights, red solo cups and a welcoming cesspool of drunken individuals. “This, right here, is what college is about,” you say to yourself. “I’m going to get laid tonight!” Fast-forward 12 hours, and you wake up to the throbbing cacophony of a headache, a dizzying swirl of daylight and the woeful absence of a sexual counterpart who would have assured you that you’re a winner. Tired, down-spirited and still suffering from too much booze, you’ve wandered into hangover land. This is probably how you felt, starting from the moment you woke up:
When you’re startled awake by an acid reflux or a super parched mouth.
When you forget how to wake up.
When you realize your phone and wallet weren’t in either of your pockets.
And when you find them on the floor under the bed.
When your phone shows you have 13 missed calls from “Mom.”
And a text from that boy/girl you were totally digging, saying “WTF that’s not funny … ”
When you finally decide to get up and try to make the most of your day.
Which is impossible, because you’re currently not a functional human being.
You’re trippin’, but in the bad way.
And you’re starting to give up on life.
You wish your friends were there to cheer you up.
But your crappy day just keeps getting crappier.
And crappier. The crap overwhelms.
Until there’s so much crap in this one day everywhere you go, and everything you see, hear and taste is just poop.
You feel like obliterating someone.
But when you’re just about to, a ray of sunshine comes shining down on you.
It whispers to you words of love, and everything suddenly seems a lot better.
You regain your ability to make prudent judgments.
And you decide: It’s time to own the night again!