Post Bacon Depression

It's time to address what is a growing problem not just in America, but all over the world. I'm talking, of course, about Post Bacon Depression. I recently added bacon to my daily breakfast, and it has been a wonderful addition that has truly elevated my life and brought much joy. However, it's also brought to my attention the prevalence and horror of Post Bacon Depression (hereafter referred to as PBD).

Bacon is a marvelous drug. Yes, it is primarily food, but it is also a powerful and addictive drug. Once you go bacon, you don't go backon it (don't worry, even I cringed writing that lame, lame, lame pun). It is absolute delicious, even in its alternative forms: turkey and veggie bacon. The taste of it and the feelings it elicits are truly indescribable. Vegetarians and vegans aren't even left out of this as veggie facon, while still inferior, has nearly the same impact. The fact of the matter is, when you're eating bacon, you are in heaven.

Unfortunately, there's an ugly side to this. Once you are finished, there is a brief period of absolute sadness. It's like a Dementor has entered the room; all feelings of joy have been sucked away, and all that's left is depression. For in this moment, although deep down you know it's not true, even though logic screams it out, you feel as if you've just experienced the best part of your day, and it's all downhill from there. This feeling sometimes lasts for only a few seconds or, on bad days, maybe a few minutes. Then it thankfully disappears and all is back to normal. The day goes on and PBD is forgotten about.

It might not seem serious, but it is. The problem with PBD is that it leaves one utterly vulnerable and teetering on the edge. If bad news is heard during this time, it could break someone and push them over the edge. Hearing of the loss of a loved one, finding out you've been laid off, getting dumped, etc... anything else bad is dangerous. Who knows what drastic or fatal measures one might take when their soul is ripped apart during PBD.

Something must be done to address this. I'm not a medical, scientific, or psychological expert, so I don't know have the answers. The only advice I can offer up is that we all exercise caution, kindness, and sympathy to those suffering from PBD. If a loved one, friend, co-worker, acquaintance, or even enemy has just finished their bacon: hold back and delay the bad news until you are sure they've moved past their PBD. It's also possible you might not know if someone is currently suffering from PBD, so in the morning hours, just be careful. If truly bad news must be delivered, test the waters, ask what they had for breakfast, break the ice first in case of PBD. And if you know that you are suffering from PBD, do not check the news, do not check the scores, do not check your bank account...just do not check up on anything!

Let's all be mindful of this dangerous problem. In the words of Bill and Ted, "be excellent to each other!" (Do you know how hard it was for me not to make the eggsellent pun. Ah crap, I've gone and done it anyway. See what horrors PBD can bring!!!???)