The Morning After

After every big blow-out comes the morning after, where eyes are blurry, heads are aching and of course the repercussions of the night before become starkly evident. However, for me and the others participating in the last nights festivities, the next morning is reserved for pancakes. It has become a weekly ritual (if not more often) that a crowd of booze-weary students crawl from the Academic Hostel to the cafe next door in order to drown our sorrows in several varieties of stuffed crepes. This morning's version: mushroom and blue cheese for Kevin and I, honey for Marielle, and ham and cheese for Szymon.