I don't like going to work hungover. I make a point to avoid it as much as possible. I buy eggs and bananas to eat when I get home from a weekday out drinking because I've heard they help prevent hangovers.
A hangover is bad enough, it's even worse when you have to go to work; it's even worse when "work" means dealing with dozens of kids who are yelling in a language you don't understand. But hangovers also make me feel guilty, because these kids' parents are shelling out a decent chunk of change for them to be taught by me. I'd be pissed if I was paying for my kid to get taught English only to have him watch some booze-hound sweat his way through 50 minutes of unprepared blabbering.
Still, on those days when I am hungover, I wish I could be some sort of "Ghost of Future Hangovers" for these kids. I wish I could transport to when these kids are in their twenties. I wish I could wake them up after a night of heavy drinking and take them back to the same classrooms I encounter now, and force them to endure the screaming and yelling and frenzied chaos that I have to. Unfortunately, I can't, so I'm unable to gain compassion in this regard.
It's for the best that I can't do that. I owe it to these kids not to be hungover, because the wonderful opportunity I have over here is predicated upon me being able to do my job effectively. Part of me doing my job effectively is me not being hungover.
That being said, tomorrow...I'm gonna be hungover.
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