Bah. Humbug.


December 16, 2009 :: 9:36 PM

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usa u-18 vs bu :: agganis arena, boston, ma :: october 10, 2009

Blergh.

This is the first year in god knows how many where I’m not sending out holiday cards. (I don’t *do* “Christmas” cards. I know so many people who don’t celebrate Christmas that it’s easier to piss off the few friends I have who are anal about it being CHRISTMAS and not HOLIDAY. Whatever.)

I’ve been having a rough go of it this year.  I just can’t find the motivation to make 100 handmade cards. I can’t find the motivation to even CARE about making them.

I’m never a huge fan of this time of year, but I normally do a halfway decent job of hiding the ick. This year, the ick is in full view.  I’m not going to hide the melancholy. I’m not going to pretend that everything is fine. I’m not going to pretend that I care about Christmas.

So there.

While there are many reasons for my ban on all things Christmas this year, I’ve noticed a change in J as well. His mother is in bad, bad shape. Like dying-of-cancer bad and the stress of that has really affected him as well. My husband, who lives for Christmas, put up the tree and hung lights on it. That’s it. I’m not in the right frame of mind to handle looking at the ornaments, much less have to touch them. Little memory landmines, each one carefully wrapped in tissue paper and put away until the next year… My angel? BOOM! My CT quarter? KA-BLOOEY! My other angel ornament?... Yeah, so *not* going there this year. I just can’t.

Unless Santa decides to bring my father back from the dead with a side of cure-for-cancer, you can take your “merry” Christmas and shove it.

I don’t want anything to do with it this year.