December 26, 2023
The aftermath of the holiday season is undeniably challenging. You know the feeling: the festivities have wrapped up, and you’re left reeling from a whirlwind of indulgence—think food, drinks, family gatherings, shopping sprees, and endless holiday tunes. As you stumble down the stairs on January 2, you can’t help but wonder how you let it all get out of hand.
I reach for my comfiest leggings, fully aware that any attempt to wear jeans would result in a firm rejection. My eyes are puffy and bloodshot, a testament to the excessive carbs I’ve consumed—both salty and sweet. Back around Columbus Day, I convinced myself that a little extra weight on my hips wouldn’t be a big deal. Today? It feels like a burden.
I succumbed to the temptation of every type of nut imaginable. I made two trips to the recycling center to dispose of the empty eggnog cartons, too embarrassed to carry them all at once. I mean, who drinks 14 gallons of eggnog? Just a woman trying to maintain a festive vibe every single moment, that’s who.
I baked until exhaustion set in, nearly singeing my eyebrows in the process. I was practically glued to the mixing bowl, savoring the remnants of each cookie batch. I still find bits of dough stuck in my hair.
The house is a chaotic blend of bows and stray wrapping paper. Glitter is everywhere despite not having purchased any in years. Why is it that everything holiday-related comes coated in glitter? It’s getting in my already swollen eyes.
The advent calendar that was once brimming with chocolate treasures is now deflated and lonely, much like I feel. Our Christmas tree is hanging on with only a handful of needles left. I lit the fireplace for ambiance every time someone came to spread holiday cheer, but now it looks more like a relic from a bygone era, drier than a century-old fruitcake—much like my skin.
The pantry is overflowing with snacks we didn’t need, from cheese balls to chocolate-covered cherries and some mysterious yule log. I know I should rise from my post-holiday stupor and toss it all, but I can sense the impending crash coming. I might need a quick sip of something to get through the shakes and sweats that are soon to follow. Because let’s be honest, the more you eat, the more you crave. Is there any eggnog lurking at the bottom of those cartons? Just a little hair of the dog might do the trick.
Sure, a holiday cleanse might work for some, but those who attempt to detox after consuming heaps of red meat, gravy, and gingerbread are just setting themselves up for a meltdown in the grocery store aisle. Besides, I’m not emotionally prepared to deny myself food right now. I also don’t want to spend three days camped out in the bathroom. I need something to look forward to now that the merriment has faded.
I’m exhausted. My body aches, and my voice is raspy from all the caroling. I woke up today intending to tackle a to-do list that includes purging the clutter, vacuuming up glitter, and drafting New Year’s resolutions. Yet, all those plans seem to be slipping away, and I’m too hungover to care.
Holiday hangovers are very real. It’s essential to allow yourself time to recover. Forget the cleanse, only make resolutions if you feel like it, and stock up on those leggings. Give your jeans a well-deserved break. Maybe by March, I’ll stop mourning the holidays, regain my composure, and actually fit into those jeans again, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Until then, I’ll be over here, weeping, extracting cookie dough from my hair, and counting down the days until I can dive into this gluttonous ritual once more.
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Summary
The post-holiday slump is a common struggle filled with fatigue, regret, and the aftermath of indulgent celebrations. As you navigate the chaos of leftover treats and the remnants of holiday joy, remember to give yourself grace. Embrace the comfort of leggings, and allow time for recovery before diving back into resolutions.