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With Thanksgiving over, we now find ourselves in this awkward, annual holiday purgatory. Most of us are well into our midweek hangovers from last weekend. The sheer amount of whiskey sours and stuffing I consumed still has me feeling more inflated than Germany’s Post World War I economy. As I walked out of the apartment today feeling like Phil Margera, I noticed that familiar, biting winter nip in the air. It’s not fall anymore folks, and Old Man Winter let me know it this AM. So as we dive deeper into the pit of despair and seasonal depression that comprises roughly 4-5 months of our year (have fun when it’s 23 degrees in April, “Chicago is awesome!” girl), I thought it appropriate to draw up a few helpful tips and tricks integral for corporate survival during the winter months. Cue up the Trans-Siberian Orchestra and curl up next to the fire with your significant other 5th Celebration Ale and settle in for some schoolin’.
Time to bust out the hairy wool sweaters and puffer vests ya’ll, its wintertime! Luckily for me, I had my little brother shear Uncle Richard’s back when he was passed out face down, full-blotto on Thanksgiving, so I’ll be patching together my own sweater this year. If you don’t have your own hairy Uncle Dick, dig deep down into dad’s collection of college gear and snag his “Ho Ho Hoes” sweater from the ’82 Christmas Meltdown. Throw that puppy on over the crispy new Jos. A Bank Traveler shirt you just copped with the Thanksgiving money you got from Nana (she has dementia and you still take it, you sick fuck). But hold on, not before you wrangle on the Christmas tree tie, complete with rainbow lights. It’s Christmastime, guy. Get into it.
“The Christmas Song” station fired up loud, all day every day. So you didn’t fork it over early in the game for Pandora One? It’s Jesus’ birthday baby, and we all know he wouldn’t want the least of his people having to wait through another one of those God-awful 30 second ads, especially with Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” next in the queue. Pay the four bucks.
It’s winter, and you don’t give a fuck. Don’t shave during the week. Save that babyface for the four you’ll make out with at the bar on Friday. You’re the youngest person in the office by 14 years, so you might as well get your Bin Laden on. You’re not impressing anybody.
Don’t even start with me. You’re not working out, and you won’t eat better over Christmas. The best you can hope for is a New Years resolution commitment that will fail almost immediately. Until then, find the bright side of your quasi-obesity. At least now you won’t need to buy that new North Face that you couldn’t afford anyway. Plop that thun-thun-thun down on the couch until February, when you start getting in shape for that spring break you don’t have anymore.
While heading for the wintry libations isn’t strictly an office move, a couple of shots of Rumplemintz can get the whole team in the holiday spirit in no time. Last year I got a bottle for the family white elephant, and it confused the fuck out of grandma when she took her first shot. Geriatric blackouts aside, hot cider, Irish Coffee, and Christmas ales are all fair game once December 1 hits. This one is actually a double whammy, as a six pack of Sam Adams winter lager can actually count as your third dinner.
While most half-hearted beta males and spineless spinsters will cripple under the dark and cold pressures of wintertime, you’ll embrace it. Use these tools to help you conquer the office’s debilitating fluorescent lighting, the world’s mid-afternoon darkness and the horrifying realization that you no longer have snow days. Become the Joel Osteen of Christmas and preach, brother, preach. If nothing else, you’ll at least have a better winter than those guys freezing their nuts off in the warehouse.