January 20th is here. We can’t avoid it. And while I personally believe it ought to be a sanctioned personal day, I don’t make the rules in these parts of the woods. An idea: maybe let’s all claim it as one anyway. You can do this from the office and glare at anyone who threatens to report you. Here’s your excuse: “On Saturday, we march. Today, we conserve our energy and rest.” Below is my recommended point-by-point schedule with ideas for how to do so. We can do it together.
9:00 A.M. Jackie Evancho sings the Star-Spangled Banner
Move into child’s pose and allow Jackie Evancho, 16-year-old runner-up from the show America’s Got Talent, to lull you into a stupor. Enjoy this moment of calm.
9:30 A.M. Radio City Rockettes perform
Crack open a bottle of green juice (you need some real nutrition now) and order in a side of bacon (why not). Sign up for barre class because that thing the Rockettes do with their legs is very impressive. Then promptly set an alarm on your phone for the last possible hour you can cancel the class without getting charged.
10:00 A.M. Mormon Tabernacle choir performs
No matter how miserable you are, all musical performances are made more fun when you know the artist and recognize the songs. Familiarize yourself with the smooth vocals of the Mormon Tabernacle choir and look for the most photogenic smile-singer (:20-:28) in the world.
11:00 A.M. Adult swim!
By the way, whether home or not, the only way to spend today is in silk pajamas or a close cotton relative. Don’t you dare change.
11:30 A.M. Opening remarks begin, featuring New York archbishop Timothy Dolan
With all due respect to New York archbishop Timothy Dolan, this is a good time for you to run to the bathroom, gather more snacks, explain to your boss that you’ve given up working until this is over, see how many office friends you can gather and try — just try!!! — to see if someone will loan you a therapy cat to purr in your lap. A hot water bottle works similarly, sort of.
12:00 P.M. Justice John Roberts swears in Donald Trump as the 45th President of the United States
Summon all of your group chats and begin swapping emotions. Do not — I repeat — do not go on Facebook. Maybe avoid Twitter.
Then Visit Planned Parenthood’s site and make a contribution. You can do this (with any organization that something to you) anytime someone who you would prefer to not be the President-elect blinks on screen. It’s like a drinking game but not.
3:00 P.M. It’s finally over. Give yourself a back scratch using any long utensils in your vicinity. This is your one shot to experience judgement-free itch-relief in a public space, assuming you’re still at the office. IDK. You may have walked out by now.
3:15 P.M. Inaugural parade begins
Take this opportunity to escape the present day by reminiscing on the first time you watched the Macy’s Day parade at home with your family while rocking fuzzy socks and a Paul Frank graphic tee. Beware of reminiscing on the time you stumbled around closed-off streets because of the damn Macy’s Day parade, so hungover that not even an egg sandwich could fix things. Make and consume an egg sandwich just to spite your own memory.
5:00 P.M. It’s been a taxing day, which is probably why it seems like a great idea to troll the Inauguration hashtag #inaug2017 and retweet depressing shit. RESIST. Instead, look at accounts that make you laugh.
7:00 P.M. Trump and friends attend the official inaugural ball, themed around The Big Apple
Your roommates will be getting home around this time, likely in need of the TLC you gave yourself today. Huddle up around another bottle, vow to raise hell for the next four years. It’s also okay to go to bed now.
Collage by Maria Jia Ling Pitt; photo via Alex Wong/Getty Images.
Getting ready to march? Read about the women who organized it.