Five Stages of Thanksgiving Overeating, as Represented By Opeth Albums

1. The Preparation – My Arms, Your Hearse – A methodical period of scouting out your options. Is it just turkey this year? Is there venison? What’s the fucking gravy situation? You’ve gotta keep your wits about you though, bro. You’ve gotta plan this out. A week’s worth of closely monitoring caloric intake, combined with an appropriate exercise regimen should level out the fucking years you’re about to take off your life through ingestion of sheer fucking flavorful bliss. Stay determined. Stay focused. Stay the fucking course from the beginning to the bitter end. You’ve got a bright future.

2. The Calm Before The Storm – Damnation – A somber moment of reflection before The Feeding. Do you smell that fucking gravy? Does it caress each nostril gently? Are you excited? Or are you forlorn knowing that just as soon as the beginning comes, the end is already in sight? Meditate in this moment. Savor its ephemera, its fleeting, unquantifiable transience. This is breath on glass, bro. This is the storm’s petrichor. Your grandparents are doing that prayer they make you all stand for. Your uncle is coming down from the upstairs bathroom, thumbing his nose. There are other old people here, and one of them has farted. And now the moment is over. Grab that plate and do work.

3. The Gorging – Blackwater Park – Celebration in all its glorious excess. This is a fully-immersed affair, and you’re about to push yourself, the food eater you thought you knew, into bold new territory. Start like usual, start like you’re about to do the same thing your family’s always seen you do. Pile of turkey (white meat only, and before your cousins get to it or you’re fucked), sidekicked with dressing (not the oyster dressing), balance the rest of the plate with peas, some of those Sister Schubert rolls, and then douse that whole motherfucker in gravy. Your folks are watching. They think they know you. But you’re about to blow their expectations all to hell. You’re eating dark meat this year. You’re living on the wild side. You’re going after that sweet potato casserole you usually shun. Bro, you’re not just eating, not just trying new things, you’re evolving as an eater. You are becoming. We’re on plate number two now. That pecan pie’s calling for you now. Secure your wedge, chow down. Feel yourself fill. Feel that momentum slow. Feel the blood in your guts refuse to power the rest of you as the coma takes hold. “You’re close to the final bite / you’re staring right past to the buffet / the liquid pools on your plate / and drains meat away”

4. The Regret – Heritage – This shit sucks, man. Look at the damage you’ve done to yourself. Look what you did. You skipped dressing and ate a shitload of sweet potato casserole (and all the marshmallows off your sister’s kids’ plates, way to go, dickhead). That rumbling now? That’s basically gummy tummy, man. You’re not gonna take a shit until tomorrow now! Why couldn’t you just stick with the formula that worked? Where was that resolve you showed back at Trevor’s party last summer when they had that fuckin’ fondue pot? Yeah, you planned everything out, but even with all that advance legwork, you still managed to overshoot your allowances. Now you’ve gotta sleep this off. You meant well, but instead of focusing on eating a good meal, you tried too hard to eat a different meal, to maybe, like, appeal to a different part of yourself. You’ve made a mockery of all you stood for and alienated the foods that supported you so well all these years.

5. The Resolution – Watershed – It’s a new beginning. The peril’s over, the immediacy’s left you. Maybe this day, this meal, was all you thought it’d be. Maybe not. Maybe you feel elation. Maybe regret. Keep your eye on the future. Tonight, you’ll watch a family get drunk, say some inappropriate shit. Tomorrow, you’ll get up, you’ll lace up those shoes, and you’ll exhibit a firm and thorough resolve to run off these 10,000 calories of misery you’ve just put inside yourself.

– Schuler