Ah, the festive season.
Don’t get me wrong, that comment is not laced with some form of bitter sarcasm. I’m no Ebenezer - I love Christmas. I love the gift buying (not so much the receiving, believe it or not – no one ever seems to get it right when buying for me) and the Christmas carols and the twinkle lights.
But what I don’t love is the tempers, the stress, the blowouts and the crap that goes with the silly season. It’s the end of the year, everyone’s winding down and we all go through this time where we’re all so completely over it all that we snipe and bitch and get horribly depressed. We can’t stand the sight of other people and we tend to wonder where the hell our life is going. Usually, I’m a bandit for the pre-Christmas downer. I’m all for a good solid period of bitching and sniping – it makes me feel alive.
This year though, it’s all different.
I’d like to be stressed, but I can’t say I honestly care that much. I’d like to say I’m a little depressed, but happy hormones seem to have taken over my body and seem to be holding me hostage to a life of goofy smiles and spontaneous (and horrendously tuneless) singing to myself. I could say that I don’t know where my life is going, but that’s cool with me right now. I could say I’m exceedingly tired all the time, but I’ve combated that by simply curling up on the floor next to my desk and taking a snooze a couple of times a day.
I guess it’s other people that I’m worried about. It’s a little hard to watch friends and family do the pre-Christmas downer. I’m so used to revelling in my own depression that I sometimes find it difficult to help people out of theirs.
What to do? Bring on the beer and alcoholic rumballs I say…
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