Apparently, drinking water throughout an evening of heavy boozing is good for you. Who knew?
Assuming you’re not exactly among the most hydration-conscious of us, you likely have returned home after a night of high-volume drinking without having so much as a single glass of water. And that’s fine. For now.
You sloppily take your shoes off, toss your clothes aside and perhaps even remember to brush your teeth before you crash, face-first, into your bed. It feels blissful to finally be off your feet and surrounded by pillows and blankets and comfort.
The room has begun to spin, ever-so slightly, as all the beer and shots and other poor decisions from earlier tonight have come home to roost. But again, for now, it’s all good.
You close your eyes and drift quickly off to what will be a fitful and interrupted sleep, but a rest nonetheless so you welcome it with closed eyes and mind.
Until, of course, you’re woken up three and a half hours later because someone has broken into your home in the middle of the night and stuffed your mouth with sand paper, cotton balls and sawdust.
There isn’t a word in the english language powerful enough to describe your exact level of parched. You have no choice but to get up, head to the fridge and poor yourself something to drink. For some it’s soda or Gatorade… for me it’s always water.
You pour one glass and as it’s being guzzled it down, water dripping down your chin and onto your t-shirt, you’ve already mentally prepped for another pour. You’re drinking as if you’ve never had access to liquid in your life, let alone hours prior. The cold relief washes over your insides.
Three glasses later, you’ll return to bed a new person, satiated and ready to get back to sleep.
And while that’s a wonderful moment in and of itself, that’s not the feeling. The feeling is that moment of consumption, the trip from absolute desert-of-the-mouth to complete refreshment is astonishing.
I’ve never been a caterpillar, but I’d imagine this feeling has to be extremely close to what it feels like to become a butterfly after being holed up in that coccoon for a while.
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Having this feeling at someone, anyone, else’s house. You have no idea where anything is or where to get something cold. Actually, the worst version of this is at a hotel because you’re basically forced to guzzle hotel tap water. Yay.