I don’t know where/when it started, my aversion to Christmas, an aversion shared by some I’m sure, and no, I’m not going to be the male version of the latest Hallmark season’s movie. Guy has it all in the big city but feels empty and cynical and comes home to his small town to find that girl in awkward, cute, accidental head bumping ways, the one who owns a small knick-knack candle shop with no movie ever explaining how she makes ends meet with a small knick-knack candle shop, the girl he knew in High School who would catch his eye on occasion (though there is a new soap shop down the road on my way to work that I might just have to check out only half showered that day maybe for reason to visit, just in case right? – soap/candles? Close enough – seriously, it’s a new shop of soap, how do you do a shop of soap?)
No, this is just me wishing December 26th would get here already and let me get back to routine because, really, this all just upsets that routine, right? I know that sounds kind of cold, very un-festive, but our ours is all askew right now, as it always is this time of year, and that’s not even taking into account the sick elephant that’s been in the room for almost two years. What obligations, what family, what drives, what presents, what pressures, what credit cards, what regrets, what mistletoe to hide from at parties, what holiday niceties you might have to share.
It’s an upending. I don’t like upendings, no one likes upendings, and I don’t want to share holiday niceties, I don’t ever want to share these niceties if I don’t have to even if I just came about the word in my head for just this purpose here right now and like how it sounds for the moment. But …
… despite myself I still feel the need to obligate the season it seems. Got the Memes and a Cricket on a shared lap, with a Bella doing Bella cat napping Bella stuff on a comforter folded into fours on the living room floor and I’m watching a movie, a new one, all no showered weekend stinky (maybe I really should hit that Soap Shop – just in case right?) “A Boy Called Christmas” … and it has a talking mouse. A talking freakin’ mouse!
Son of a bitch.