We know what you’re thinking: enough is enough. And who can blame you, because you’ve gone harder than harder for the past two days.

Friday when the alarm went off was the worst, mostly because the morning after the night before always is. Looking back, Thursday evening—aka Day 1 of Olio—was the kind of seven-hour haul that gets filed under “insane”. There was the couple of coke bumps off Nardwuar’s naked (and extremely hairy) ass at that Evaporators gig, the tequila shots at the Cave Singers, and the 12 cans of warm PBR at Glass Candy.

Trooper that you are, you puked into the sink, loaded up on grease at Bon’s Off Broadway, and hauled your ass into work Friday morning, only to do it all over again that night at Olio Day 2. The Jagermeister was flowing in medicinal-tasting rivers at Ladyhawk, Bonjay left you wondering why you don’t set up permanent residence at the Fortune Sound Club, and J Mascis showed why he’s a legitimate icon at the Rio.

All of which brings us to today. Trust us, we totally understand that you’re hurting. After all, let’s face it, not matter how evil the liver is, it doesn’t deserved to be punished three days running. But look at it this way: when you’re sitting around in the old folks home 50 years from now, do you really want to think back on your life and all the things you missed out on? Like Day 3 of Olio Festival.

After all, it’s not every day you’re going to get the chance to see Montreal alt-prog experimentalists Besnard Lakes rip the shit out of the WISE Hall on a Saturday night right after the Defektors have headlined a punk-as-fuck three-band bill at the Astoria. And don’t even get us going on the trouble that one could get into when Teen Daze plays hometown hero at the Cobalt, Active Child weaves a majestically sad indie spell at Electric Owl, and French synth-poppers Chateau Marmont get the girls of the West Coast kicking off their panties at the Media Club.

In fact, it should all be enough to make you think “Fuck it—I’m going out tonight because one more hangover this week isn’t going to kill me." Until, that is, Monday morning, which is when you’ll be sorry as hell that you had the time of your life at the 2011 edition of Olio festival. Don’t worry, you can not only call in sick, but probably get away with it, as long as you weren’t doing boilermakers with your boss Saturday at that Black Wizard show at Pat’s Pub.