‘Tis the season to party hearty. But I must admit, now that I’m middle-aged, I not much of a party kind of gal. I’m more of a hot chocolate, asleep by 10:15 social clod.

So, what’s a sluggish middle-aged muddler supposed to do, now that the holiday party season, like a horde of ravenous locusts, has arrived? Hibernate in a cave? Take a vow of silence and retreat to a Zen-like monastery until January 2? Drag my sorry, sweat-suited derriere out the door and socialize till my cheeks ache and eyelids droop?

This year, I’m planning ahead. I’ve prepared a List of Seven Perfectly Plausible Middle-aged Excuses to Get Out of Holiday Festivities. Read more