You know what? I’m not doing this.
I’m not. I’m done. Seriously — stick a fork in me.
I hate shopping on a regular day. I LOATHE shopping during the holidays. I love my people. I know they love me, on a good day. But this frenetic rushing about, trying to get the perfect thing like it won’t be there the next day — no. Most of my nearest and dearest are underemployed and broke. Why are we doing this again?
Oh, Jesus. Right, right…
This travesty of shopping and emo-ludicrous DeBeers commercials has nothing to do with that guy. We can’t blame this on Jesus, over the top tinsel, glitter, and white lights. I love looking at decorated houses, hearing carols and eating unfrosted gingersnaps by the pound. It’s just that I cannot… produce sentiment, nostalgia, or perfect family moments on cue. I cannot meet whatever silent expectation you might be having for me that you never explained, nor can I comprehend your disappointment, grief or — worst, your rage when I do not. And I strongly resent any arbitrary date on the calendar which requires this song and dance of me. Everything is ridiculous and overblown and too loud, and we are all so almighty stressed and distressed that this whole yearly extravaganza is a highly bad, bad, bad idea. So, Christmas is OFF, okay? OKAY, THEN, FINE.
…so, I’ll see you on the 24th, for brunch, a lazy movie marathon and board games, then? You’re on.