Hangover.

Not the usual kind, but the kind from too much (mental) cotton candy... also known as "Sex and the City" on DVD.

In the way that traveling and eating only junk food eventually inspires cravings for spinach salad and sauteed beet greens; in the way that too many Netflix'ed documentaries means a viewing of "Blue Crush" becomes required... this is the way that watching too much "Sex and the City" makes a person uninterested in any number of normally fun things: high heels, having sex, telling people "I'm a writer", drinking at morning brunch, talking about men.

But never cigarettes or curly hair. If there are two things the inimitable SJP can do, it's smoke a cigarette sexily (making even this never-again-smoker want a Parliament) and rock the curly hair (making this new-to-embracing-her-curls woman want to wear 'em au naturel).