Dia de los Gordos

Post-holiday letdown.

Jacked From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ with SOME editing.

Already!? Is Halloween even a holiday worthy of post-holiday let-down? I thought that was the result of weeks (nay, months) of building anticipation to shred it all away in a 20-minute flurry of paper and bows (“Wait, WAIT. Do NOT throw that away, that is GOOD ribbon. I’ll use it next year!“). I did anticipate Halloween, since I did have to order my costume online. But I didn’t anticipate it nearly enough to warrant any sort of post-holiday letdown, since I still ended up shelling out for overnight shipping. So what gives?

Maybe it’s just a sugar crash.

And I’m obviously using “sugar” here in the way that today’s health nut uses it — as a proxy for “all things nutritionally evil.” So that includes salt, too. And let me tell you that after Halloweenie Wednesday: Now with Chili, Too, I’ve contracted whatever the salt-version of adult-onset diabetes is. (Hypotonic? Does it come with a splash of gin?) At least I’m educated in these matters (in addition to a concentration in NaCl, I’ve also got a concentration in undergraduate biology. Stand back and let me work, will you?), so I know precisely how to treat the come-down effects from over-indulgence. In medicine, we (Sorry, medical professionals, I totally just said “we.”) refer to this treatment as cappilus de canis. For you blobs out there, that’s the time-honored hair of the dog.

So, eschewing my healthy homemade stir fry lunch, I turned to the leftover potato chips from yesterday’s bonanza. But then I was somehow simultaneously parched and still craving sodium. (I know it’s a marvel science, I’m practically a scientist. But still, you rarely see this in my field.) So I reached for a startlingly sodium-packed, yet satisfying sugary swill of my old friend. And then 3:00pm rolled around. So . . . you know:

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But that didn’t fight the funk.

So there I was, at 3:05pm, 2345 calories in and still down in the day-after dumps. This was really testing the limits of my diagnostic abilities since none of the approved treatments had carried the day. Luckily for me, I caught a break: Mail Call. Having indulged in the tiniest bit of catalogue catharsis, imagine my delight when what to my wondering eyes did appear, from a small well-taped nondescript box, my new best friends. And just in time for an end-of-week show-off at a Fabulous Friday Fete.

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And for my final trick . . .

In much the way you must always take all of your antibiotics, even though you feel better, I’d be a fool to stop self-medicating¬†just because I’m not AS let down by the passing of Halloween as I had been this morning. At the pinnacle of prudence I’ll press on, squeeze my nose, squint my eyes, and take down the final dose.

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At least it’s only once a year.

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