Despite my moniker, one of my many flaws is that I get hungover every time that I drink. You would think I would have learned my lesson and stopped by now, but I’m not a quitter. My usual hangovers are of the typical aching head, nauseous stomach variety, but I was blessed by the Hangover Gods this morning with what I like to call an energy hangover. You’ve definitely had them too, but you just didn’t refer to them that way because only somebody as smart as me could think of it. You know that feeling when you wake up after a late night out and you definitely feel a little banged up, yet you’re also motivated to get out and do shit? That’s what I’m talking about here. I went for a fucking run this morning. Me. Exercising. I couldn’t believe it either, and halfway through my jog around the block I stopped and pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I even got ballsy and snagged an iced coffee while I was out, which is usually a hangover no-no for me because it always ends in a guaranteed puke session. I don’t know the science behind it, but it must be something about the lingering amount of alcohol still in your system that somehow gets you up and at em. No matter what it is, I’m all for it. Why can’t every hangover be like this? One of life’s many unanswered questions I guess. This is just a quick little rant before I get right back at it again on this rainy Saturday here in Massachusetts. Bruins come on in an hour, Sox are on at 8, and I really hope my liver ate it’s Wheaties this morning, because it’s gonna be a bumpy fucking ride. #SoxIn4