You've feasted on too much Cthurkey; you've indulged in heaping portions of vegetables; your stomach may or may not be approximately 40% stuffing; and you vaguely recall throwing back mulled wine and Wild Turkey bourbon with your partially-deaf, partially-racist uncle. Now your mouth is dry, the light sears your eyes, your head is undergoing construction, and your stomach is wondering if this is what it feels like just before giving birth. You have a Thanksgiving hangover and nothing can make you feel better. But wait! We're here to help: Below, check out our 35 step guide to overcoming the physics of tryptophan overload.

1. Wake up, curse your deity of choice.

2. Immediately go back to bed. Turn alarm off.

3. Get out of bed three-to-nine hours later, glare with contempt at any relatives or friends who mention they have been awake "for hours."

4. Contemplate going back to bed.

5. Although you feel full from the night before, it is important that you eat as many leftovers as possible as fast as you can. Leftovers are at their best one day later. Don't question this.

6. Yes! Everything tastes delicious! You're light as a feather! You can do this!

7. Take a power nap after eating. You earned it!


8. Wake up, realize your hangover is worse. Question whether you should have had so many leftovers so soon.

9. Oh, what the hell, have a little leftovers snack. You deserve it.

10. You did not deserve it.

11. Try to drown out the voice in your head telling you you're a garbage dump of a person by drinking with friends.

12. Drink a lot. Drink more than maybe you should. Pass out in a pool of your own excess. It's okay, this is all part of the process. You can wake up early tomorrow and start the new day on the right foot. Everything will be fine!


13. Wake up in the afternoon. Go back to bed.

14. Wake up in the evening. Glare at any humans, animals and plants in your vicinity.

15. Eat more leftovers—leftovers are really at their best two days later, that's what your grandmother always told you growing up.

16. Avoid mirrors, avoid direct eye contact, avoid walking more than 20 feet at any one time. Most important, avoid judging yourself when you cancel on plans with friends in order to work on your Pybrid (aka, Pie Hybrids: a combination of three or more pies made by mashing desserts together).

17. Okay, today was a bit of a bust. But look, it's understandable! There's nothing wrong with indulging over the weekend, it's the holidays. Tomorrow you'll go the gym, for sure.


18. Wake up with a craving for more leftovers. Thanksgiving food is truly the quintessence of leftovers three days later, you read this once in the New Yorker, you're pretty sure about that.

19. Slip into tryptophan coma while watching James Bond marathon. Wonder whether the villains were so incompetent because of the contrivances of the plot. (Bond needs to live/outsmart everyone, after all), or whether there's a deeper reflection of British culture as it transitioned from WWII to the Cold War.

20. Things will be different Monday.

21. Call in sick Monday morning.


22. You're almost out of leftovers now for real, so really focus on finishing off everything you have left. Four days is probably the perfect amount of days for leftovers. Everything still tastes so fresh and delicious!

23. Invite your friends over for post-Thanksgiving weekend drinks, because you literally cannot conceive of walking out of the door or facing the reality of your life.

24. No one comes over, which means more Pybrid for you.

25. Unable to sleep? Start emailing friends at 3 a.m. asking whether they have any leftovers left they are looking to get rid of.

26. Start referring to yourself in your head as Mr. (or Ms.) Garbage Dump Person.

27. Call in sick from work for the rest of the week. You can't be seen in this condition.

28. Find yourself yearning for five-day-old leftovers. Those are the best leftovers, you definitely think you read about this in the The NY Times—or maybe The Journal News?—last year.


29. Things have escalated. What day of the week is it? You're singularly locked into a cycle of leftovers to napping to drinking to Pybreeding (the act of smashing together multiple Pybrids into Super Pybrids).

30. Accept that this is who you are now. You will always have a headache. You will always have a stomach ache. The light will always hurt. Live your best life.

31. By now you are truly out of leftovers. None of your friends feel comfortable responding to your emails, possibly due to the increasing number of exclamation points and "LOL BUT SERIOUSLY"s you've begun peppering into your desperate cries for food.

32. If you're unable to sleep, sketch out new elaborate designs for Pybrids next year. It's never too early to start Pybreeding.

33. Time is no longer linear. Hours bleed into days bleed into weeks. Begin scrawling Pybrids all over your apartment. Lose job. Lose friends. Lose touch with your humanity.


34. Celebrate Christmas with your loved ones.

35. Eat Christmas leftovers. You deserve it.