I find myself not feeling Christmas this year. Things have just been “meh” and it’s dragging me down.
I’m still doing well with my run streak – I missed one day because I was really sick, but I ran two miles later that week to make up for it. I know it’s not a true streak anymore, but I see the miles as being important.
The other thing is that while we have the tree up, there’s nothing under it. My family stopped exchanging gifts well over a decade ago, and with my husband’s family it’s been a few years as well. For the two of us, we’ve just been picking up the little things here and there that we wanted: a couple of video games, some nice whiskey, new fleece shirt, etc. Thus, there’s nothing under the tree.
Which, in a way is fine. Christmas has always been this crass and consumeristic holiday. Don’t believe me? Work in retail between Thanksgiving and New Year’s. You’ll learn very quickly to dislike Christmas music and the idea of shopping for Christmas gifts.
We have a present-less tree, a couple of dozen peanut butter chocolate chip oatmeal cookies and a fireplace to warm up in this upper 30F weather we’re having. It’s colder here than in half of the country – parts of the country that should be buried in a foot of snow by now! Madness.
Back to my point; this year it’s all tinged with melancholy. Which puts me in a “meh” place. Which makes me want to do nothing.
I’m going to cook a special meal either tonight or tomorrow, but nothing like the Christmas spreads I’ve done in the past. No fun plans of movies or games. No cheese ball. No Bailey’s Irish Cream. Nothing.
Posted in: Journal