In the next few days, most of us will travel—perhaps begrudgingly—to our families’ homes to celebrate Thanksgiving, the gateway drug to Christmas.

I feel the consensus is that while many enjoy the Thanksgiving break, some may not actually enjoy the familial aspect of Thanksgiving.

I’m right there with you. I value my family and appreciate their sometimes overly invested interest in when I will be producing grandchildren, but sometimes you’d rather be somewhere else.

Why not? Instead of knocking back a Pumpkin Woodchuck with a couple friends, you’re treated to an engaging conversation about how delicious sourdough stuffing is.

For the last few years, it’s been a pain.

But as a senior, I’ve gained a slightly more, uh, mature perspective.

Tomorrow starts my last-ever Thanksgiving break.

If all goes according to plan, I will be working full-time in the industry next year, and I’m almost positive the news doesn’t stop for a Thanksgiving turkey.

Of course, I will visit my family, but the dynamic will be radically different.

Hopefully I will be out on my own in an apartment completely unsupported—who knows, I could invite my family over to my own Thanksgiving feast to talk about the merits of stuffing.

For those of us who shy away from family interaction: Appreciate the awkwardness now. You’ll look back fondly and long for the days of yesteryear. At least you can tell stories about how many cats your aunt owns.

As one of my new favorite artists would say:

“Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh. Oh yeah. Oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh. Alright. Come on. December was Christmas. January was New Year. April was Easter. And the 4th of July, but now it’s Thanksgiving. Oh, oh, oh, it’s Thanksgiving. We, we, we, we are gonna have a good time. Oh, oh, oh, it’s Thanksgiving. We, we, we are gonna have a good time. With a turkey, aye, mashed potatoes, aye, and we, we, we are gonna have a good time.”