The day kicks off usually with cryptic remains of the undocumented todos I managed to put together the day before. Now, one must make sense of it all.
A similar practice is usually referred to by folks as meditation: the act of piecing together smithereens of now elusive articulations obscured by urn.
A hangover for me is beating myself up for underestimating the value of writing things down whilst wallowing in the reminder that a little too much booze is an enemy in the guise of an altruist.