It’s a mix of unattractiveness, unpleasantness, and emptiness all rolled into one, akin to a jackhammer. Were it a man, you’d likely want nothing to do with him. Yet, the experience of waking up with a horrendous hangover seems to repeat itself, despite the frequent declarations of ‘never again’.
So what drives us to do it? Even though we are fully aware of the awful aftermath that awaits, we indulge in excess and then scratch our heads in confusion. We become perplexed by how a few casual after-work drinks escalated into a night of wild indulgence that costs us in terms of headaches and regret.
In an old Russian film, a drunken man unintentionally boards a flight to St Petersburg and crashes in a stranger’s apartment on New Year’s Eve, much to the annoyance and frustration of the host. The next day, he finds himself outside in the snow, enduring the horrors of a hangover. He jumps up and down to keep warm while repeatedly muttering, ‘must drink less, must drink less’.
Increasingly, I find myself in that same boat. Without the snow and the Russian accent, of course.
It’s no secret that drinking is a staple of Australian culture. Setting aside issues like problem drinking and bar fights in Kings Cross, it’s deeply woven into our social fabric. A recent study even revealed that Australians are allocating as much of their weekly budget to alcohol as they do to their electricity and gas bills.
Personally, I have no qualms about that. Despite the anxiety that the phrase ‘electricity prices’ can provoke, I’d prefer to reside in a nation where funds are being used for enjoyment rather than mere warmth. That, however, is not my concern.
My real concern revolves around the tipping point and the strategy to avoid it. Any advice you might have would be greatly appreciated.
