I’m at peace. Ish. At peace-ish. Despite not being remotely prepared for this holiday, I let go of the remnants of control I held onto and gave in. I surrendered and curled up in my bed, sleeping and healing for the past week.
That was both a solid and responsible decision health wise, and an incredibly foolish one the week before the holidays.
My doctor and family are equally surprised by my unprecedented show of good judgment, and my UPS driver is worried I’m seeing someone else.
I had a low moment texting with a friend, and complained that I still needed to start my holiday shopping. My friend who does not celebrate really much of anything sent back “Holiday shopping? What’s that?” So I explained:
“Holiday shopping is when you make a list of all of the people in your life that you want to disappoint, and you take that list to stores crowded with people carrying lists of people that THEY want to disappoint, and you elbow your way through them as you shove the one remaining cart with the stuck wheel through aisles of useless or too expensive stuff.
You cry off and on and eat loose purse candy to keep your blood sugar from plummeting you into mindless violent outbursts. You load your faulty wheeled cart full of items you are certain wont fit/last/be compatible/be to their taste and try very hard not to throw things in the direction of the speaker nearest you, the one playing the chipmunks Christmas song, the song that curdles your blood.
You peel every layer of clothing off while still maintaining a level of decency and decorum worthy of family venues because it’s a thousand degrees in the store. That’s to be expected. You are, in fact, in Hell. Hell is hot. You should have recalled this and dressed appropriately.
Once your cart is too heavy to shove, you turn it around and drag it tracktor style towards a checkout. Once piled on the conveyor belt you proceed to extract the kidney you think is least likely to survive your kids college years, and then auction it off to cover the tab at the register.
If the kidney is a no go, be prepared to trade your car in. Most cashiers are college kids too and have low enough standards in transportation options that they’ll probably be foolish enough to take your steel and plastic bumper car as payment for your stuff. Let them.
If you shop the same day I shop just know it will be combination snow/raining making it almost impossible to shove-drag your cart to your car all the way at the back of the lot. It’s always a combination snow/raining when I shop. Even in July. Dont ask. It just is
When you finally get it all home and into your kitchen where you absolutely WILL give up and drop the stuff, grab the big soup bowl from the cupboard and fill that baby to the top with your cooking wine. Sit right down on the floor and empty that soup bowl with the last of your loose purse candy. That’s your dinner. The family can feed itself.
And that, my friend, is holiday shopping.
Wrapping? Now that’s a blog into itself.