I've come to the conclusion that all I want for Christmas is nothing to do.
I'm sure the things going on in my life are the culprit, but my Christmas spirit appears to have been hijacked this year. I'm so busy concentrating on all the niggling details that I'm having a hard time remembering why I was such a Christmas junkie to begin with. For example: my house is an absolute disaster because I've had no time to clean it. And why? Because two weekends ago my husband and I ventured off to Newport to see the mansions decorated for Christmas and to Boston for a relative's christening. Last weekend, we got up bright and early and set out to make a dent in our Christmas shopping.
And talk about annoying. I have this mania about finding everyone their perfect gift, and I was not feeling it that day. The deals were nothing special, the Gap wouldn't let me use my coupon for sale items, and while trying to locate "the" gift in Express for my sister-in-law, all I could concentrate on was the throngs of screaming children outside the store waiting to have their picture taken with Santa.
We left with a few more people scratched off the list, but far too many incomplete for my taste. Then on Sunday I spent some long overdue time with my sister, and there went that weekend. And this weekend? I needed an oil change, we celebrated my sister-in-law's birthday, and... we went to get our tree. I didn't even want a real tree this year. I wanted to totally slum it and get a fake one, foregoing the needles all over my floors, the endless watering (and consequent spilling), and of course, my husband yelling because I'm not holding it straight enough while he's tightening the tree stand. I admit being out at the tree farm made me feel slightly less grinch-y, and the tree is making my (filthy) house smell heavenly.
My plan today is try and tackle some of the mess, do more shopping online, and maybe get in some decorating and wrapping. But I feel guilty about it, because I'll be missing the Mass dedicated to the ten year anniversary of my grandfather's passing. I also don't know how much I'll actually accomplish, because I seem to be permanently exhausted. It's probably hormonal, but it's like trying to function underwater. And of course, tomorrow it's back to work. That black hole that sucks up all your time and energy and doesn't care that you have a life outside its doors.
Sound a little negative? Yeah, told you so. And this HIGHLY unusual for me, because I normally adore Christmas. I'm one of the first people to send out my Christmas cards. My souvenir from every vacation is always an ornament for my tree. I host Christmas day at my house, and I love watching people open the gifts I've chosen for them even more than I enjoy opening my own. And yes, my novel takes place around Christmas time, too.
But I suppose it's no surprise that there's a kink in my Christmas mojo this year. Yet, if getting the tree yesterday cleared away the Grinch cloud for a bit, maybe decorating it today will ease a little more of my Bah Humbughood. But just so you can see what I'm talking about, here are some photos. Behold the mass of unwrapped gifts, totes of Christmas wrap and decorations, and general messines. But the tree is pretty, isn't it?