Dear Brain and Liver: When did you Decide that Three Drinks is a Good Point to Team up for a Hangover?

Brain, liver, you’ve been working together for a while now after my nights of drinking. About 13 years, to be exact. Our trifecta has been through a lot together. Years working in the bar industry, months spent in Germany, the Big City Tap. And we’ve gotten along swimmingly throughout these and other hardships. But when did you get together and decide that three drinks is a good amount for the go ahead into a morning hangover? And why didn’t you tell me first? Jerks.

I’m of course referring to Wednesday morning, when after two beers (a kölsch and a Pacifico) and a healthy-sized glass of wine (pinot noir), I woke up with the requisite guilt and headache that normally only come after a Thursday night of irresponsibly drinking pitchers of Bud Light. When did you decide this was OK? Since when is drinking responsibly defined as less than three drinks? Is this punishment for last weekend’s adventures, as brought to you by Jameson? Am I going to have to start drinking MGD 64 to appease you idiots?

I mean, I get it, and I think it’s swell that drinking during the week, even after getting a reasonable amount of sleep and going for a run, is no longer acceptable. I accept that I’m on the heavy side of my 20s and I’m not the binge drinking tank of destruction that I once was at 22. But seriously? I’m single and socially awkward. Unless you guys expect me to stay in my apartment for the rest of my life to watch reruns of Scrubs while continuing my heavy research on which Twitter desktop/iPhone/online applications rule, then I suggest you straighten up and let me go out during the week, at least for three full drinks.

If the two of you continue this tirade and don’t allow three drinks during the week, there’s a good chance I’ll turn into something worse than just a cat lady: The woman at work who wears stretch pants and talks about her knitting projects. You know, the one who always brings the “Love Yourself” and “Letting God get you Through It” books.

Brain, I know that I spend the majority of my time punishing you by reliving The Things in Life that I’ll Always Feel Guilty About. Liver, I know that I spend the majority of my free time rewarding myself with booze and thus making you work overtime. But we’re going to have to get on the same page here. Let’s stop screwjacking around and agree that five drinks or more is an acceptable point to trigger the morning sweatfest with the accompanying regret and Catholic guilt. Anything below that, save it for the weekend. Because, seriously, you guys would think that Tuesday was an episode of Empty Nest compared to what I could put you through on just Saturday afternoon. For realizes.