10 Unconventional Ways to Survive Holiday Madness

Let’s get this straight.

“Surviving holiday madness” really means, in my overly unbiased opinion, to avoid it altogether. So, here are 10, uh, mildly unconventional ways for how to survive (as in, evade completely) months of holiday madness. And, let me tell you from years of being the number one weirdo on the block, they all work.

1. Buy all the things.

Nothing solves a burgeoning tension headache like a whole bunch of debt. Anxiety-driven retail therapy + seasonal super sales (+ a hearty dose of self-destruction) = .12 off of 40 jars of slightly expired mayo, a car trunk full of discounted monogrammed pillows (not your monogram—doesn’t matter), and several “custom-fit” dresses shipped from China that will get here in approximately six years. Good choices, you financial paladin, you.

2. Hide.

I like to think of this suggestion as a shout-out to preppers everywhere. Here’s the gist: Board up your windows, invest in a surplus of $1 flashlights from Walmart, and sneak down to your creepy, 10 Cloverfield Lane-style bunker. Then, spend the next two months eating tinned peaches and sharpening your scary Bear Gryllis knives while waiting for the new year and/or the apocalypse to occur. Or you could just pretend you’re not home.

3. Volunteer for every single bleepin’ thing.

I mean, really, we’re slightly self-destructive enough that we all have a bit of FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out), right? To rectify that, consider shouting an enthusiastic YES to every single opportunity that pops your way. It’ll cause just enough psychological damage to cause a mid-level breakdown, paint you as notoriously unreliable, and get you into a therapist and out with a hefty bill. My three favorite things. Ho, ho, ho.

4. Become a crotchety old geezer.

This is gold, guys. The world’s your senile, smelly oyster. How to accomplish this? Complain all the time, get huffy and completely offended over small indiscretions, and gum your way through your mashed Christmas dinner. And if you’re thinking, Hey, wait a second. This sounds like me already, even better. Less work to add to your to-do list. Especially the gumming your food part. I’m impressed.

5. Procrastinate everything.

This is my favorite suggestion and something at which I’m particularly brilliant. Leave everything until the last minute, and then break down in convulsions of blubbering, hysterical sobs while trying to explain to your bewildered spouse that you were up until 3 a.m. making must-have turkey cake pops (that turned out more like Turkey poop pops), and now all Christmases are RUINED FOREVER. Or, even better, I’d suggest quitting while you’re ahead. As in, don’t start. If you set reasonable goals like, “Stop showering,” or “Stop celebrating holidays,” then, literally, you’ll never be disappointed again.

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Kiera Durfee: Kiera Durfee is an eleven-year military spouse veteran and is an avid writer, teacher, Netflix operator, doughnut eater, and procrastinator. She represented Utah National Guard spouses as the 2014 Utah National Guard Spouse of the Year and feels strongly about military spouses finding the communal and spousal support needed to navigate the tumultuous storms of military living. Kiera enjoys eating, exercising (in that order), singing, ignoring the laundry, and being with her husband and three little girls who are the very center of her life and who simultaneously drive her mad. In addition to being well-versed in hearty wit and sarcasm, she knows all of the state capitals.
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