I couldn't wait for my 21st birthday. I couldn't wait for a year of ordering crazy-named martinis at the bar and not giving my hand a seizure every time I passed a legitimate I.D. over to the bartender. I couldn't wait to pull up to a liquor store and walk by the eighteen year olds soliciting passer-bys to do a "Hey, Mister" and buy booze for them. I couldn't wait to be Jenna DaSilva and not Priscilla Dias, the name my fake I.D. read for two years. 21 was going to be a good year for Jenna DaSilva, a great year.
But as quickly as 21 and all of it’s “Sazernac - straight up” glory came, it left. Thats because of something I like to call the “I’m not 18 anymore hangover.” After a night of hitting the town with my main homeslices, I now wake up feeling like Matthew McConaughey is playing bongos with my brain while having the morning sickness equivlant to that of “Octo-Mom’s.” In other words, 21+ hangover are no bueno.
W…T…F, I ask?!
I remember a time, not so long ago, at the tender age of 18, where after a night of splitting a 12 pack of Natty-Ice with 4 of my friends, (leading to the inevitable black out), I would wake up bright and beaming the next morning. I would get up at 5 am to work the morning shift at my first-job bagel shop with a skip in my step and a smile on my face. Now, one drink at night and I'm out for the count, nay, for the day.
I've thought about contacting Tara Reid and having her explain to me her next day functioning methods, but I've come to realize that this is just one of the small yet unexplainable changes that happens to you after becoming a semi adult, or as a 21+ year old.
No comments:
Post a Comment