SHANE​ WARREN

There’s a name for this weird little void we tumble into every year, that space between Christmas and New Year’s Eve when time stops making sense, calories stop counting, and the line between “afternoon nap” and “existential crisis” gets deliciously blurry. It’s called Gooch Week.

As we roll into the end-of-year season - family dinners, office parties, group catch-ups, and those “let’s do this every year!” barbecues - there’s always that one person.