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Smell that? The chill burns your nostrils. The primary aromas are heavy craft beer, cabernets, and wings cooking at tailgates. Then the secondary aromas come in — turkey fresh out of the oven, gravy spilling over mountains of mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie getting washed down with your dad’s scotch. And then finally, at the very end, there’s the spices from the cider along with the cinnamon, clove, and roasted chestnuts on an open fire.
Today’s the first day of hunting season. You know, if “hunting season” means endless work hangovers, paid time off, and catching up with old friends. It’s the best time of the goddamn year.
November 1 through mid-November
The calm before the storm. The SEC and B1G matchups with actual implications start to roll in. Sweatpants adorn your body while you sit on the couch for the entirety of the weekend in lieu of braving the cold to go to bars to watch the game. In September and October, you jumped the gun and brought out the down jackets and scarves only to get humbled by an unseasonably warm day when you thought you were going to ass-sweat through your flannel-lined khakis.
On the surface, nothing has really changed since mid-October. Besides your mindset. With November squarely in our laps, we know we’re allowed to be complete and unadulterated pieces-of-shit until the clock strikes midnight for The New Year. It’s like what grizzly bears feel like before they start eating their weight in salmon before hibernation begins. Our beltlines and wallets are about to be screaming for mercy before our significant others convince us to do a “Sober January” that only lasts one calendar weekend.
Maybe there’s even a Friendsgiving party sprinkled in here and there where you prep the laziest thing you can think of and hope your buddy’s girlfriend went above and beyond with Chrissy Teigen’s potato recipe. Who knows.
The Last Week of November
Hey, sorry, Bob, I’m actually going to be out Wednesday because I’m heading home a bit early for Thanksgiving. I know, I know, it’s not super convenient for any of us, but if we’re being completely honest here, everyone thinks you’re an asshole for scheduling a meeting at 2:30 the day before Thanksgiving anyway.
Listen, Bob, this is how it’s going to work. I’m going to go home dressed nicely to impress my parents. Then, that Wednesday night — you know, Blackout Wednesday, the biggest bar night of the year — I’m going to get as drunk on brown liquor as humanly possible before striking out at the bar with that girl in high school I always had a crush on. When I wake up on Thursday morning in my childhood bed with a Defcon 1 hangover, my mom’s going to cure it with the most gluttonous food my brain can conjure up. Belly full and Modern Family playing on the TV, I’m going to pass out before doing it again Friday and Saturday before I have to schlep my overweight ass back to the office.
Come Monday after Thanksgiving, you and I, Bob? We’re not going to speak to each other. I’m going to be licking my wounds from a three-day hangover and you’re going to be stressed about making ends meet because your son wants the new XStation that’s coming out and we’re not getting Christmas bonuses (probably because I’ve been sandbagging while applying for other jobs).
But between when I leave on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and when I attend that meeting you had to reschedule for after the break? We’re dead to each other, and dead to every other coworker in this place. Happy Thanksgiving.
December 1 through December 15
Whether I’m wearing a hunter green fleece vest over a button-down or a sweater paired with some corduroys, just know that I’m still full from Thanksgiving. If there’s one time of the year to use hair gel, it’s during Christmas Party Season. Maybe you’re mixing it up with those coworkers you hate at a steak dinner or you have a bar tab going elsewhere — you get to work from home Friday because the higher-ups know it’s their one time to let it rip before nuzzling in with their family for the holidays.
And every other night of the week? Christmas parties, NFL games, and gift exchanges that leave you only-kinda-sorta hungover for work the next day. But that’s okay because everyone’s feeling the same way due to the Holiday Sludge that covers your body like a second skin. You’ll confront it later, though. Diet starts in 2019.
The Week of Christmas
Thanksgiving, Part II. The one time when the sequel’s better than the original (outside of Might Ducks 2 and The Godfather).
Old friends? You’re drinkin’ with ’em. Relatives? You’re bullshittin’ ’em. Presents? You’re openin’ ’em. Irish coffees and mulled wines? Tip ’em on back. Honey baked ham? Leftover sandwiches with spicy mustard for days. Instagrams? They’re being posted. Winter ale after winter ale after winter ale, Christmas may not be what it used to be but at least you’re not in the office — and more importantly, neither is anyone else.
The Week Between Christmas and New Year’s Eve
Hopefully you saved your vacation days by RSVP’ing “nah, fam” to some weddings because this is where you make your nut. Be it an extended stay in the hometown or just some relaxing around the crib while going hard every night, all you have to do is check your work email and make sure there aren’t any fires you need to put out. In fact, the only fire you should be worrying about is the one in that fireplace underneath your big screen. Do I need to put it out before going to the bars? I don’t know. Probably. Fuck it. Just put the guard over it.
Sure, you’re inundated with “do we have a NYE plan yet??” texts from December 28th until the afternoon of December 31st, but that’s literally the largest of your worries. It’s time to put the cherry on top of the greatest time of the fucking year. Let’s roll. .
BAH GOD, THAT’S WILL DEFRIES’ MUSIC
FALSE.
John Candy would have been 68 yesterday, nice touch. RIP
This whole article got me straight up giddy
You forgot hunting season, Will
THANK YOU
I’m ready to run through a wall after that column- Lets get this smoke motherfuckers
Winter Sex > Summer Sex. Let the discussion commence.
Not having enough recent data points to come to any real conclusion. PGP
I appreciate your efforts for statistically significant data
Cant wait to make my nut
: I have to sell or lease at last 80 helicopters to make my nut. And you… You mess with my nut, Brennan, Randy here is gonna eat your dick.
There’s truly no other feeling than sitting at my home in the Rust Belt, full on copious amounts of food, and arguing with the family on which episode LL Cool J is best in. It’s a time unlike any other. Great take Will.
OATMEAL SZN
I’m going with summer as the best time of year, at least for those of us north of the Mason-Dixon Line. Work is still relatively slow, and there are summer Fridays for some of us. Also, no having to clean off the car or shovel snow.