I really don't know what it is that causes me to like this time of year less and less. For about the second or third year in a row, I become totally irritated with putting up the tree and decorations. And this morning was no exception. Ugh. Irritated, unhappy, just want to get it done and out of the way. I swear, if the hubby wasn't here to keep my attitude in check and run the cattle prod up my back end to get the job done, I'd be right here on my laptop or in a coffee shop somewhere. I hate the work, the mess, the packing and unpacking of decoration boxes. I get bent out of shape when things don't go as planned or when extension cords can't be found. I could care less about where the tree goes, if something needs to be moved this way or that, or if what colors go where. Go gives a flying piece of Santa's North Pole Christmas poop....not me.
Hubby told me that my attitude has been in the dumps for several years now -- and that when he first met me (11 years now!), I used to be the one that drove the whole thing. Time? Life? Stresses? Pressure? Reordering of priorities? No kids? Middle age? Who knows. A bit of each, perhaps. I can't stand the commercialism, the crowds, the kids running all over the stores, the traffic and parking lots. None of it interests me in the least. I'm more than happy to relax with coffee, friends, dinner, and the most simple of times. No fuss, mess, hard work.
So, while he drove me toward this today, I'm walking around with a cattle prod just about as far up my Holiday Ass as it can get. It's right up there with a candy cane or two from last year. If it weren't for the fact that we are going to spend New Year's with this hot man and his husband in New York State, I think I'd just fast forward the clock to January.
My god, I sound like the Scrooge of Christmas Past, don't I?