The day after Christmas is the easily one of the worst days of the year. You wake up the morn of December 26th, and then the horrid realization hits you- Christmas has passed yet again, and you have to wait another 365 days to once again feel the wondrous magic of holiday spirit and stuff yourself sick with Pillsbury cookies. Its practically a funeral routine.

AP Psychology taught me that denial is one of the many stages of grieving, and I most definitely validated that theory- I ate leftover Christmas cookies for breakfast (accompanied by coffee in a holiday mug) and continued to binge-watch Hallmark movies that I had previously recorded in preparation for this wretched day (actually my mom recorded them for herself, but whatever). Anyways, for me, Christmas is not over until our artificial tree has been stuffed back in its box, and the world has trotted back to it’s typical, non-holiday forms of commercialism.

Luckily, my darling Gabriella (pictured below in the pink sweater), bustled into my house, alongside two other gal pals (Ibby and Leah- yay new friends!), and tore me out of my post-Christmas misery. There’s nothing more antidotal than gushing about your boyfriends over some pad thai and dumplings. (Ah, the joys of being young and stupidly in love). This was, of course, followed up by some ice cream, which we did indeed eat in 40-degree weather. Mildly painful, but totally worth it. Long story short, good friends (and food) literally solve all life problems- even post-Christmas depression. It’s just the simple truth.