Travel is a Great Enabler. Any deviation from the normal everyweek routine can be threatening to the will of the weak mind.

It starts well before you hit the road: “I would not eat this full pizza tonight, but it’s Wednesday, and I’m leaving for the weekend on Saturday. And I’m going to be eating my face off then, so what I eat this whole week is moot. Starting Monday, without fail, I’ll be eating better.” Yeah, lucky it was a 2-for-1 so there’s also a pizza for later. Plus, you’ve been doing a lot of walking lately and that offsets the carbonara footprint almost entirely.

Thursday is also shot for the same general reason. It’s worse, even, because now you’ve got some momentum behind you – weighing more, this is how inertia works – and think, “I feel terrible for eating those two pizzas yesterday, but not entirely terrible. Hot damn, that’s a lot of pizza! I haven’t done that in years. I’m young again!” The source of shame becomes the selfsame source of pride, and we haven’t even left the house yet, for our weekend or for food, because they deliver.

Friday, you drink because you just wish it were Saturday already. You’re halfway through this iteration of the consumption mindset and you’re all, “Like hell if I’m going to take it easy tonight. If anything, I’ve got to maintain.” Life is a marathon – this is a sprint, and it’s a relay, so if one leg fails you’re done for because you’re topheavier than you’re used to being.

Saturday, it’s go time. You think about a light breakfast of oatmeal, maybe a banana, but now the excuses get pettier. “The banana’s a little brown, should have had it yesterday. Why did I buy it in the first place?” Oatmeal’s texture seems particularly gross this morning, plus you don’t want it kicking back on the drive up. So you make a Dagwood special for the road, and with the cold cuts out already, you whip up a smaller one for breakfast right then, just to hold you over.

You’ve been overeating now for three days and you’re just getting into your car. Slowly, I might add, and not without groaning a bit, that low seat being made for a smaller, lighter version of yourself.

You get where you’re going and crack open a beer. The calm before the storm. It’s the hair of the dog, but there will also be plenty more where that came from. Better to take advantage of the half-empty stomach now than drinking on a full one, because where’s the drunk in that? You’re at college, not in college, and you left your tolerance in your last dorm room. You don’t live there anymore. Some other kid is making great use of it, don’t worry. Anyway, you have your relaxing afternoon in the arriving crispness of Fall but have also to get ready for the tailgate. You wish it were acceptable to wear your track pants as you and your buddy pick up the wings you ordered and then without even a flash or a paragraph break you’re back inside a living memory from ten years ago. The structures are all the same. Your friends are there. Are you asleep? Food coma can’t setting in just yet, just hold on. “Sure, I’ll have another beer.” You lose track of how many wings you’ve had, on purpose. You can’t remember how many drinks you’ve had if you try.

The game is the eye of the storm. You have a hot chocolate. The windy upper deck keeps you awake and reminds you that if you were at home you’d be napping now.

Not over yet. Now there’s the afterparty. And the food after the afterparty. The guy who takes your order has a golden spiral-inscribed, fully delineated golden rectangle tattooed on his left forearm and now you’re sure you’re dreaming. You commend it but he only offers thanks before taking someone else’s order. The secret of life may rest with him, forever now. It’s 3 before you get your sleep

and head to Dunkin’ Donuts before kickoff. “I’m on vacation, so I can get this microwaved breakfast sandwich. No worries.” You have more pizza at halftime, because how often do you see this friend? It’s a time to celebrate, not to cook. His roommate makes rice and beans and takes small, sensible bites. He’s polite. He might go for a run but you’re heading to your car, games and pizza nearly kicked. You’re on the road a while and fill up the tank and think, “I’m not really hungry, but I could eat.” You drive over to get fast food, every time for the last time before your Diet, but it’s okay, because you’re traveling.

You wake up Monday restless, ready to be back in your routine. You’ve celebrated well, seen some friends, broken bread with them and gotten drunk with them. Now you’re done with all that and you’re going to give that a rest until your birthday, until Thanksgiving, until Christmas.

You look at your calendar to plan your week.

You’re going out of town on Thursday.

You order in.