I’ve decided to go with it. It’s gotta get done. Whether or not, I’m the one. So, ‘if I can’t beat ‘em, I join ‘em” and all that merry, ho ho fun.
I don’t know when it happened, but, over the years, slowly, surely, dreading Christmas has become second nature for me. I don’t quite have custom “Grinch” tags sewn into my long johns, but do I jump up and down, fitfully clapping my hands upon the first sighting of halls decked with festive balls? Umm, no.
So, the other day, I took a blowtorch to the Abominable Snowman shrouding my slowly melting heart, cranked the carols and flew my sleigh off to that magical place that has all things Christmas. I shopped ‘til I dropped a wad of dough, drank my fair share of Peppermint Mochas and developed the shakes due to a lack of social media couch time.
And you know? It wasn’t all that bad. In fact, it was kind of empowering. I took Christmas by its jingle bells under my wing and forced, err welcomed it to do things my way ease on into the stocking parked next to mine.
Make no mistake – when presents are wrapped, cards are sent out, my pen is capped and gone is my pout, I enjoy nothing more than a naughty ‘nog by the fire where I can dream big dreams of all I desire.
After all, the honor of putting the star on the tree, is not entirely lost on me.
Hazy Shades of Me 