This is the third post in two days about Christmas, although I deleted the other two. After spewing them out into the world, I decided maybe they weren't fit for public consumption after all. (Although they'd been read at least once before being killed off - thank you, Rhys, you're the best).
Let me try again. I'm not fond of this holiday. I think it's because of having to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas morning alone, it just kind of lost its sparkle for me. I know for a fact that I'm doing something different next year. My first idea was to buy everyone on my Christmas list a heifer (or portion thereof), and then go away for the holiday, just me and Tyler. Since Christmas will be on a Friday next year, that would make it easy ... a weekend trip.
Plan B would be to find something else to do around here - go volunteer somewhere, a nursing home, a homeless shelter, I don't know. Something to take my mind off wallowing in my own personal cesspit, which serves no good purpose.
I suppose I can give myself two years of adjustment. Last year I knew it would be bad, and it was. This year I was taken by surprise - I thought it would be better. It wasn't. So now I've learned my lesson, and I'll move on.
Speaking of moving on ... I've got three more days of weekend and don't know what to do with myself. I suppose packing would be a good thing ... I've accumulated a bunch of empty boxes that are just starting to get in the way. And it's gotta be done sometime. If our offer gets accepted on this house (after we make it next week), we may be able to move in 30 days. That's not very long when you're working full time and trying to do it all in evenings and weekends.
As for other things to do this weekend, I considered going into work as well. I have a lot to do, it would help me get caught up. Probably not today, but maybe tomorrow.
I guess that's all I have to say about that.
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