Friday, December 12th, 2003 • No Comments on Having Myself a Merry Little Christmas, Dammit
I have thirty Christmas/Hanukkah cards left to write. That’s not so bad, considering I started with over a hundred. What is
bad is that three days ago I thought I only had thirty cards left to write and I’ve since written over twenty. First, I misplaced ten cards that need addresses (if I know you and you haven’t gotten a holiday card from me by December 20th, I probably don’t have your address), then I added a handful of editors to the card-giving list. What better time to get in a few suck up points than the joyous holiday season? So, I’m having nightmares that the thirty cards will never go away, that every time I make a dent in the pile they will be replaced by more cards and there will always thirty of them. Scary.
I am running on chocolate and caffeine and sheer willpower these days, otherwise I would collapse into a weeping, quivering puddle just like Frosty. It’s been a stressful week. Actually, stressful isn’t a good word for it. Stressful implies something serious and weighty, when I’m mostly talking about the hectic, chaotic, insane holiday stuff. It’s self-imposed martyrdom and I do it to myself every year. I guess I’m afraid if I slow down for a second I might miss what everyone else seems to have this time of year—family, roots, a sense of place. It sucks to feel like little orphan Annie when everyone else is starring in the Brady Bunch. I don’t feel sorry for myself (nor do I expect anyone else to feel sorry for me) because I’m grateful and lucky to have people in my life who care about me and look out for me. The truth is, I’ve worked my ass off to make this happy little life for myself and I’m proud of it. Still, I’m reminded at this time of year of what I don’t have that most people take for granted. It must be nice to be loved no matter what and not have to work at it so damned hard all the time.