I Can’t Get into the Holidays This Year
There, I’ve said it. My Christmas spirit is about the same as the song lyrics playing right now on my Pandora “…dead, dead and gone.” OK, so Blood, Sweat and Tears’ song is a lot more upbeat than the line implies. Nevertheless, it fits the idea that my typical excitement about the holidays has floundered.
Perhaps it’s because my only concession to decorating this year is the annual Trader Joe’s wreath on my front door. But logically, as I’m spending Christmas with my daughter and son-in-law this year instead of them spending it with me, it makes perfect sense. I’m sure the cats would disagree as they thoroughly enjoy chasing ornaments around the house this time of year.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m as happy as ever and am following the tradition of lighting the Chanukah candles every night. I just can’t get into the preparations, and it’s affecting everything else as well.
The other night, I pulled out all of the wrapping paraphernalia after rearranging my living room furniture. A couple of night’s later, I took everything out of it’s mailing envelope and checked my orders to see what I’m still missing. Now everything sits on top of my card table waiting for me to do something…anything with it.
Gone, the Joy of Annual Crazy Wrapping
I think my mind has yet to wrap itself around the idea that stockings won’t be hung on the entry wall with care this year and there won’t be the mess on my living room floor where wrapping paper is tossed for cats to play hide ‘n seek in. The idea of loading everything up in my car seems to have killed the buzz I get from dreaming up new and different ways to annoy my kids.
Lean Years Shouldn’t be Mean Years
There were plenty of lean years when my daughters were growing up; years when many of their gifts were hand made and often not especially pretty. But they loved it all because I did my best to make it fun. The fact that this year is lean as a result of building my freelance business shouldn’t change that. And yet, in some ways, I think it does.
Doing hand made stuff for my daughter seems pointless since anything I might do, she does better. She’s creative and innovative and she’s actually good at artistic stuff. I’m not. Words are my art and it’s not like I could write a story for her by Christmas and have it bound all nice and pretty. I don’t even have time to clean up “Frederick the Gentlemouse” which is more than half written, by then.
Where oh Where Did my Mojo Go?
So I’ve sat, night after night, watching Christmas movies on Hallmark channel until they no longer hold my attention. I was supposed to be wrapping but so far, I’ve not gotten any paper unrolled or cut nor the stuff on my table put into boxes. What I have done is what you see right now. I’ve done what I usually do when faced with a problem or mood I want to shake. I’ve written about it, shared it and dragged the causes and reasons from the depths of my somewhat twisted soul.
As I type, I realize that part of the problem has been my concern over my elderly cat, Patches, who has been ill for the last week or so. What started as lack of appetite has gone through several stages after learning that her liver enzyme numbers were off the chart. She seemed to get worse and I finally took her off the antibiotics which were upsetting her stomach and killing what little was left of her appetite.
Thankfully, she’s finally eating, if smaller amounts, but I offer her food about 3 times a day so all in all, she’s probably getting as much or more than she was, and the vomiting has stopped. Like anyone who has been that sick, she just wants to hide and sleep. I keep finding her curled up on a pile of stuffed animals in my closet. When she does come out, she likes to curl up on my bed where the rest of my brood gather around offering comfort (as long as food isn’t involved. Toby, Scrappy and Pye would just as soon scarf down her food as comfort her, the little piggies!). I think that until I know she’s out of the woods (and each vet I speak to has more words of dubious cheer to offer) I’m going to be a few quarts low on my holiday spirit.
If you’re still reading this, I want to thank you for reading my petty rant. I do know I’m not alone in having to dig down deep to find my holiday spirit, though, thankfully, my usual joy and positivity is still intact. There’s something about the world saying “you need to be joyful” that makes people want to stomp their foot like a two-year-old and say petulantly, Don’t tell me how to feel!
Speaking of positivity, I’m finding myself rewording my thoughts at the strangest times. I was driving between errands today and when I passed the offramp for Costco, I glanced at my gauge and thought I don’t need gas. After a second, I changed it to I’m good for gas and finally, I have sufficient gas. I’ve got myself so well trained that I even correct casual thoughts now. I guess that’s a good thing when you consider the Laws of Attraction. Thoughts can and do become things.
On that note, I’ll leave you with my gratitudes:
1. I am grateful that Patches is finally keeping food and water down.
2. I am grateful for my writing when I need to work something out.
3. I am grateful for the people who read my posts; even the ones I know are rather tedious.
4. I am grateful I cleared my mental path so I can move forward, getting things accomplished the rest of the week.
5. I am grateful for abundance: love, ambition, support, friendship, encouragement given and received, joy, hope, health, peace, harmony, philanthropy and prosperity.
I invite you to visit my Facebook pages, Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author and HLWT Accounting. Please also drop by my website, A Passion for Writing and check out my Hire Me Page. I’ve created these pages as a means of positive affirmation and would be very grateful if you’d “like” them or leave a comment! Thank you!