PSL Season Again

It’s just past Halloween so naturally it’s time to start ignoring the resolution I will surely make to lose weight after the holidays. Incidentally, Costco won the “first Christmas decoration” battle — before the first day of school.

I don’t even plan not to gain weight over the holidays any more. I passed my 35th birthday a long time ago. You know—that age when you know you HAVE to exercise a little more to compete with the stay-at-home yoga moms in skinny jeans carrying green smoothies in matching Yeti mugs.

At age 40 I realized exercise alone is a waste of time so I actually have to eat less no matter how much I work out. Wait for it… hahahahaha. The cashier at McDonald's sees me three times a week and still says, “Thank you, come again,” as if she doesn't even know me and there's not a 1,000 percent chance of that happening.

And now that I’m well past the off-ramp to 50, I just don’t care any more. My bad habits are burned-in at this point and like all those crazy ads on TikTok have shown, I will do anything to lose weight except eat right and exercise.

So here’s how it works during PSL (pumpkin spice latte season).

October 20: buy more Halloween candy because I ate all the chocolate I got in September before the seasonal prices kicked in.

November 1: Change radio pre-set to Sirius XM Hollyyyyy to get in the mood. Eat all the leftover Smarties I had to buy because I ate all the good stuff before October 20 and had to choose between candy corns or Smarties at the last minute. There’s only one way to eat candy corns… first, throw them in the trash. If you’re like me, they are lying in the can right next to those disgusting orange marshmallow peanuts. What diabolical sugar-Satan invented those nasty chalk bombs anyway?

Thanksgiving: It’s a good idea to sign up for a Turkey Trot or some other kind of fundraising race. I think it’s a nice thing to do to remind myself of those who are less fortunate during the season of giving. But then, I’m so out of shape at oh, say… the quarter-mile mark, I have to stop and get sick in the bushes. On the plus side of that, I won’t feel as much guilt later when I shovel in turkey and more calories than Michael Phelps on butterfly day.

While I’m on running, who invented marathons? Okay, I know it was a guy in Greece and there was a battle. I suppose I might run during a war, but seriously, I can’t remember the last time I Googled anything; restaurants, job sites, or doctor offices, that I didn’t include “within 10 miles” in the filter. I won’t even drive 26.2 miles.

Early December: And so begins the round robin of Christmas brunches, lunches, dinners, parties, cookie exchanges and, in my case, a visit from Insulin Claus. Plus, it’s a rule that I have to have savory snacks and thick drinks to watch “The Grinch” and “It’s a Wonderful Life”. That’s tradition so there’s really nothing to be done there.

December 20, begin wearing yoga pants, or Santa suit to hide what shakes, when I laugh, like a bowl full of jelly. Also start stocking up on alcohol for the family events soon to come. Most of the time I don’t visit as much as I just sit on the floor with the dog and take notes for future Belle Chimes In columns. It’s good therapy.

By December 29 I’m ready to rip out my radio because I’ve heard Mariah Carey say all she wants for Christmas is meeeee about a billion times, so I go back to my regular pre-sets; Classic Rock, 80s (which is actually also 'classic' now), Fox News, and USA Comedy. I frequently just move straight up the dial to the jokes when I simply can’t take the news any more.

Naturally, also during this last week of December, I’ll also get at least a half-dozens cards that were mailed late and inevitably they are from people I forgot and it’s too obvious if I send them one now. Next year I’m just scheduling Facebook posts.

January 1: Wake up bright and early to start my new exercise regimen. I have no hangover because I’m too old to stay up to midnight any more. Around noon I’ll decide there is too much football to watch so I don’t have time to exercise. Cycle complete. And by that I mean, cycle of life. I’m still not touching a bike.