Listen: If you wanted to forget what just happened, you’d pick up any old bottle lying around the house.

But not you. Your depressed-ass palate deserves the best. Plus, you’re a total beer snob. You have standards. And how else will you spend that sweet severance package?

1. In your state of shock on the way home, you swear to shed the bad habits you developed since full-time work is hard. You’re going to exercise. You’re going to get off social media. And you’re not going to drink.

But first, you could use a beer. Whatever craft IPA is in the fridge. Just plug in the lights on the Christmas tree, and down that mother in under 10 minutes. ‘Cause you’ve earned it.

2. Dinner needs vegetables, so drive to the grocery store and buy the best piss-ass beer you can find. A six-pack of Dos Equis amber is a solid pick. But don’t drink it all at once. And definitely not before you drive back home. Watch a mind-numbing Christmas movie as you eat frozen pizza, and get back on Facebook to see how many of your “friends” posted similar sob stories. Commiserate.

3. The next day, go for a run. Clean out your office, and shlep the boxes to your car. Since you’re downtown, why not stop at your favorite brewery? After all, they just had a ten-tap stout release last weekend, according to Facebook.

Post up at the bar on a surprisingly crowded Tuesday night, and order the one without coffee because you need to sleep tonight. Delete the Facebook app, and spend the next hour watching terrible television that celebrates others’ disasters.

4. Take home an expensive four-pack so you can bring the brewery home without driving drunk. One is good for now, and you definitely pour it into a glass, unlike the Dos Equis. Watch another sappy Christmas movie. Reheat the pizza. Sleep for three hours. Wake to acid reflux and a craving for more beer.

5. Sneak into the basement for a rare imperial bourbon barrel-aged stout brewed with cocoa nibs, vanilla, and the spots of a thousand cheetahs. You’ve been saving it for a special occasion, so you might as well. Savor it on the floor with your back against the dryer. The house centipedes and cave crickets are the best company, anyway. You definitely don’t need no stinking Facebook, and alcohol will never let you down. Google “5 beers you need after getting laid off” to get ideas for tomorrow.

Kat is a freelance writer and editor. Again. But she isn’t bitter. Her severance package is enough for beer for at least the next three months.

Note: This is a piece of embellished satire, and I recommend drinking well within your limits, if you drink at all. If you do, don’t do it when you’re stressed, desperate, lonely, etc. Therapy can do wonders for that. I’m a fairly optimistic and resilient person with a strong support system, so if you know me, you don’t need to worry about me. But it’d be great to hear from you sometime since I’m no longer on Facebook.