What it is like being 21, broke* and hungover.
I am going to preface this article by mentioning that everything in this article is one massive rant about absolutely nothing relevant. This may come as a to a shock to those that are used to my usually infallible prose.
Today is Sunday. Since I started studying Psychology here in Rotterdam I have become a little too closely acquainted with this type of day I like to call, Sunday “not so fun day because I’m hungover and I have to write an entire 2000-word essay”. The dread you feel when you wake up with a thumping headache and desire to do absolutely nothing about your slowly approaching deadline, it’s amazing. For the remainder of the day you will have a nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to get stuff done and in the front of your head a sensation closely resembling feeling like you were hit by a truck last night.
I am not a weak man and thus I do not let those little things dictate my Sunday Funday™®©. So, mostly at this point, I just procrastinate. If I had a beard I would tend to it at this moment. Beards are without a doubt your best life partner: they are both your best bro and a decent shield for your face. A wise man once told me that to own a beard is to wear your masculinity as a trophy on your face. I fully concur. However, a beard is just as much a responsibility as it is your best bro, care is of utmost importance. Tending to a beard is a fine art, one not to be underestimated. Every man who sports a beard knows their beard’s demands, its shortcomings and strengths. One could even call a beard “a garden for one’s face”, which is what I will call mine whenever it grows back.
Quintessential to productivity is my work environment. It needs to be both work ethic-enhancing and have a relaxed, feel-good, positive, loving, caring & passionate aura/vibe to it. So recently I was getting into the idea of sitting in a café to work. I enjoy the cosy relaxed yet productive environment. Everyone is there to enjoy life while make efficient use of it. Whether they are enjoying a quality cup of coffee, catching up with friends or discussing business with other business people. However, today I arrived at the café and just as I wanted to order a warm cup of Jasmin tea (can I get a hallelujah?!), I was cut off by a young barista with a moustache telling me they were closing. I walk to the door to check the closing time on Sunday. It reads 18:00. Fuck. Where did the day go?
I decided to just throw the towel in the ring and walk home. After a brisk walk, I sat myself down upon my favourite settee (yes, because it’s the non-leather one) to write this very story. I can already feel the wave of euphoria pass over me when I have finally completed today’s task. This concludes my short story, my creativity was sky-high on this one. You’re welcome. I will speak to you guys next time.
*Students aren’t really broke, they just can’t afford gin and tonic in a club. But seriously, who can?
By Cameron Wylie