I don't often drink these days. A year or so ago, I spent my Saturday nights dancing away in uncomfortable shoes sipping vodka redbull's, and two years ago I spend both my Friday and Saturday nights drunkenly dancing in clubs after having too many sambuca shots - which inevitably lead to years of spending my Sunday's in bed hungover, usually trying to figure out whether food will make me vomit or be an incredible hangover cure. Usually, I wound up eating a lot of unhealthy food, going in and out of sleep, and binge watching crap on my laptop. The day is usually both hideous and genius.

I've got to admit, these days the occasional night out is plenty for me, and I don't particularly miss puking in a skanky toilet because I've partied a little too hard, even if the girls you meet in the toilets, are probably nicer than anyone you will ever meet soberly - but I do miss the morning or day after the night before.

Now, obviously, I don't miss the hangover - there is always a point during the hangover which I get very dramatic and wonder if I'm going to die. Doing so many shots that I see my life flash before my eyes at 4 pm the next day is hardly missable. What I mean is I've missed the day which the hangover is an excuse for.

It becomes completely acceptable to stay in the PJ's without showering until late the next evening, maybe - there is something so gross yet completely wonderful about this.

For the first Sunday in ages, I decided to have a hangover day, without having a drop of alcohol the night before. I stayed in my PJs, hardly moved from my bed, ate all the junk food and watched Gilmore Girls on repeat. I allowed my mind to not think more that the obvious debate of shall I go and pee risking losing my comfy space.

And, oh dear lord it was delightful.

My sister even came and asked me if I went out the night before - it felt great to tell her no.
Who knew I non-alcohol induced hangover could be so good for the mind?
Occasionally there is something great about being a bit of a slob.