I don't know why we tend to remember the good times on Saturday nights, not the horrible Sunday mornings. At least until we get wise to this disease. Selective memory - it tricked me into binging so many times. Now life is predictable - and that doesn't mean boring. I can count on feeling a certain way, not hope that I won't have too bad of a hangover to function. As Penny mentioned - my first thought on Sunday mornings often was - where/when will I have my next drink? Such a tragic waste.