written on the 3rd of November, right before going in the store.
I’m sitting in the parking lot of the store, filled with dread. I know, once I go in, it’s gonna be “MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS” shoved down my throat so hard I’ll be shitting Christmas trees.
It’s November. It’s gray today and kinda rainy. These are the days I live for, gray fall days in a post Halloween world. It’s the days I was made for.
I think I liked Christmas, once upon a time. In days where it didn’t start till day after Thanksgiving/December 1st. Where you only had 25 days to get it all in: sing all the songs, watch all the movies, eat all the cookies! And then the afterglow that lasted till January 2nd and then it was depressing cold winter.
My 25 days of Christmas was used up before the middle of Halloween, once the Christmas trees were put out on display.
I’m done with Christmas. I know I have a few gifts to crochet but other than that, I have no love in my heart for this blasted season.