A lucky, lucky girl I’ve been
over the last weekend.
I reached 31 and as terrified as
I was about this for some reason I had an amazing time. Many buddies joined me
from far and wide to eat and be merry on the streets of Cardiff before dancing
the night away at Brewhouse; which is my new favourite place. It reminds me of
being young at gigs, where you would be covered in sweat and lager from jumping
around, and sticking to the floor because it’s covered in some crap or another.
It was awesome, staff were great, band was great, and it’s all about having a
good time! Which is what we did. We drank, laughed, did stupid shots, and
danced like assholes. Or well at least I danced like an asshole, everyone else
looked pretty good.
The ageing process however does
not take kindly to nights like these, and it’s difficult to recover after a
booze filled party bash. So as you can imagine the day after was spent in a
haze of Bob’s Burgers reruns, cuddles between my bezzie and my boyf, and dirty
dirty food. Not to mention the conflicting emotions of the hangover horn and
too much nausea to do anything about it. I mean seriously what is that? It
can’t only be me that get this right? And if it’s not then why would your body
do this to you on what is already an emotional day to get through, and we wish
it stopped there!
The next hurdle to overcome. Ladies and Gentleman,
it’s the curse of The two-day hangover. That post hangover day, and for me, my worst
day. Urgh! The reason being, you can function again, you can feel mostly back
to normal but there’s something that’s hanging in there. Something that lingers
on the fringes that you know you’re not quite yourself yet, but it’s the day
after so you can’t cling to the “I’ve got a hangover” excuse anymore. You have
to become a functioning member of society again which is hideous. Especially if
you have to be around people who bounce back from a night out. Those early 20’s
that you used to be where you would go out 5 days a week take a day off and
then head out again. Rather that now where you’re out on Saturday and have to
take a week holiday to recover.
In order to battle this, I took
to the internet in search of post hangover, post 30 advices. The web is
saturated with advice and conflicting advice, so I did the best with what I
had.
So armed with metabolism boosting, energy
packed ingredients I went about fixing myself a Smoothie. And. It. Was.
DISGUSTING! I had a great attitude though so I got through it, and downed it in
a record 45 minutes.
No one ever said trying to get
healthy was easy. This is just the pain following the pleasure of the weekend.
To combat the trauma-ok I’m
dramatic- of the smoothie I treated myself with a gorgeous warming face pack to
detox the pores, and cleanse my skin. Being healthy and looking after yourself can’t
be all doom and gloom. It was bloody gorgeous! A combination of papaya, kiwi
and red berry.
I mean the thing is apparently,
the older you get the harder it is to stay healthy. This information has been
confirmed time after time my one of my older cousins. Who loves to give talks
on the challenges of getting on a bit. Not only do you have to put yucky things
in your mouth (easy filth bags!), you have got to put amazing things on your
face. That’s the first thing I noticed while I’m chugging on my smoothie, I
would have much rather been eating what was on my face, and patting my face
with smoothy!
It wasn’t all bad, and with
the way I’ve treated my temple this last 30 years, cleansing and detoxing was definitely
going to be on the cards sooner or later. This is not to say I’m going to
become a one track goodness train of wellbeing. I am going to make the effort
to try. That for me is what I’m going to do with my year of 31. TRY. Looking
after myself. Understanding my limits and desperately trying to hold onto my
youth. Age is just a number baby. Now hand me that night cream!
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