Monday, December 30, 2013

Christmas Past

Another Christmas has come and gone. This was a particularly special one as it included a great day spent with extended family a few days before Christmas and a full day with my immediate family (including a brand new son-in-law) on the 25th. There was time for an inspirational church service, a couple of amazing dinners, one highly-competitive, entertaining cookie contest, Secret Santa deliveries, and one miserable football game whose pain was dulled with several glasses of Cabernet. Yes, Virginia, it was a good Christmas but that doesn't mean I'm not happy it's over. Here's a few reasons I'm grateful that I have 360 days to get ready for the next one:

- I can stop eating 3000 calories a day

- My credit card can retreat to my wallet for longer than forty-five minute intervals

- I will no longer be tortured by Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time. (I used to love you
  Paul McCartney)

- I won't have to scroll through 125 pages of Etsy looking for Zelda memorabilia

- I can spend one entire day at home enjoying my new slippers, cozy blanket, and Teavana teapot (Santa obviously thinks I'm 103)

- I can stop baking (see reason number one)

- I can stop looking for a comfortable position to wrap presents. Next year may have to be done
  standing up at a very high table.

- Lifetime and The Hallmark Channel can go back to chick flicks that don't include disillusioned
  Christmas tree sellers who fall in love with the fake Santa hired by their long-lost son or daughter  but who's really a multi-millionaire coming to town to save it from being torn down to build a ski resort.

- I won't have to set foot in the post office. Oh, wait, yes, I will. I still have one package to mail.

And finally, without the pressure and chaos of shopping, baking, wrapping, and eating, I can sit back and appreciate the glory and beauty of Winter as it settles in for its open-ended Midwestern run. Oh, hell, who am I kidding? Now that Christmas is over, I can get the heck out of here, lose the fuzzy slippers and start sipping a Pina Colada on a beach somewhere.

Who's with me?


 


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