The Hungover Girl’s Guide to the Sunday Reset
It’s Sunday. You’re in a T-shirt that may or may not belong to someone else. Your mascara is on your cheekbone. There’s an unidentified wrapper in your bed. The fridge has one sad lime and a container of sauce that smells like betrayal.
This was not the plan.
You were going to have a wellness weekend. You were going to do yoga, sip tea, wash your sheets like a grown woman. But instead, you took three shots of tequila, started an argument in someone else's kitchen, and now you're here. Achy, emotionally fragile, and very aware that your home looks like a crime scene set designed by a hungover raccoon.
But guess what? You’re not doomed. You just need a reset. Not the influencer kind. Not the “I wake up at 5 a.m. and make bone broth” kind. The you kind. The kind where you clean your space while blasting angry pop music and pretending you’re the complicated main character in a very expensive limited series.
Let’s begin.
The Reset Is Not About Productivity. It’s About Survival.
This is not a Pinterest board. This is a war zone. And you’re not Marie Kondo — you’re emotionally bleeding from the ears and wondering how many mistakes you made this weekend. That’s okay.
The Sunday reset isn’t a flex. It’s a strategy. It’s a way to get out of your head and into your hands. It’s you saying, “I can’t fix my life, but I can vacuum up this pile of crumbs that’s starting to develop a personality.”
You’re not cleaning because you’re a responsible adult. You’re cleaning because it’s the one thing you can control when everything else feels like a group project you forgot you were part of.
Step One: Embrace Your Inner Trash Goblin
Before you do anything else, locate a trash bag. You’re not organizing. You’re purging.
Throw away the cups. The receipts. The mystery fork. The sad wilting spinach you bought during your “maybe I’m healthy now” phase. Every single thing that is not serving you? Gone.
This is cleansing. This is power. This is rage cleaning dressed up as emotional rebirth.
And don’t look too closely at that receipt from Friday night. We’re not doing math today.
Step Two: Pick a Surface. Just One. Pretend You’re Filming a Time-Lapse
You’re not deep-cleaning the apartment. You’re starring in a fake cleaning montage where you redeem yourself from whatever you did last night.
Choose one surface. Wipe it like your life depends on it. Spray something that smells like eucalyptus and delusion. Put an object there that makes you feel vaguely like someone who owns multiple throw blankets and drinks water on purpose.
Suddenly, your space goes from “I gave up” to “I’m trying.” That’s the line we’re walking today.
Step Three: Clothes Belong in Drawers, Not on Every Visible Surface
Yes, that means the chair. We all have that chair. The one that holds six outfits, one towel, and your darkest secrets. Today, we attack the chair.
Don’t fold. Just move things to a semi-respectable pile. You’re not auditioning for The Home Edit. You’re simply trying to see the floor again.
You deserve a space that looks like it belongs to a functioning person, even if you are currently operating at 12% battery and three regrets.
Step Four: Romanticize the Chaos. Lie to Yourself if Necessary.
You are not hungover and spiraling. You are a brilliant, misunderstood antihero cleaning her apartment while rethinking every conversation from the last 48 hours. You are cinematic. You are dramatic. You are spritzing a room spray like it’s your weapon of choice in a post-breakup revenge fantasy.
Put on a song that makes you feel like you have secrets. Light a candle that smells expensive, even if it came from the clearance section. Drink water like it's champagne and you’re celebrating your return to basic hygiene.
This is not survival. This is a reset arc.
Step Five: Choose One Corner to Be Your Sanctuary
If everything feels overwhelming, just pick one corner. A single square foot of space that you will make beautiful. Clear it. Wipe it. Place something nice on it — a book, a plant, a coffee mug you didn’t steal.
Every time your life feels like it’s crashing down, look at this one perfect corner and remember: you did that.
Step Six: Let the Reset Rewrite the Narrative
The Sunday reset is not about cleaning. It’s about rewriting the story. Yesterday you were chaos in a bodysuit. Today, you are slightly more grounded chaos in clean sweatpants.
You are not the girl who forgot to take her makeup off. You are the girl who rallied. Who rehydrated. Who put her hair in a claw clip and took the trash out like a local legend.
You do not need to be healed. You just need to be horizontal on a freshly made bed with a clean floor and a plan to do better next weekend.
That, darling, is growth.
TL;DR (But Make It Encouraging)
Throw things away like they insulted your family.
Clean one surface like you're filming your own redemption arc.
Relocate the pile of clothes and reclaim your floor.
Play music. Light candles. Lie to yourself until you believe you’re thriving.
You don’t need to be perfect. Just less feral.
