It's an age-old question: how do you cure a hangover? And it's one that, given our well-documented booze culture and penchant for binge drinking, tens of thousands of New Zealanders are likely to be grappling with when they wake up tomorrow.
I can virtually guarantee that I'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on 1 January, not because I'm a model of virtuous restraint but rather because I just can't get excited about New Year's Eve celebrations.
There's something about all that forced and finely timed bonhomie that repels me.
Being cheerful on cue makes me want to put my head under the covers and wait until everyone has gone home. And, anyway, Auld Lang Syne just might be the dreariest song I've ever heard. That's another good reason for staying home with the cat tonight.
Call me a Nana, but I'm often eying up my watch at, oh, about 9pm on the last day of the year and wondering if I can possibly stay awake until midnight. Often I don't. All that hype and pressure to overindulge on New Year's Eve brings out the party pooper in me.