It’s National Name Your Hangover Day. Instead of sneering and snarling at your hangover, or cowering before its power, let’s humanize the thing, give it a name and a backstory and make it something we can work with, if not assassinate. For example, I call today’s hangover Merle. Merle is a a Wichita stockbroker. He’s businesslike. Unfussy. Suspects there might be a Devil. Deeply interested in hog futures. Especially when they’re fried up in a pan. Yesterday’s hangover was named Brett. Brett was compact, sleek, eager to get along. Brett shone with the unnatural exuberance of a recent zombie-bite victim trying to prove to the group he isn’t going to turn. Go ahead, give it a go. Humanizing a hangover, stealing away its cruel mystique, is the first step toward forgetting that it’s there.
