For some reason I’m actually excited about Christmas this year. Not quite wear-a-tacky-sweater excited, but actually-going-to-decorate-a-tree-and-drink-lots-of-mulled-wine excited.
Not entirely sure why this is, but it might have something to do with the fact that I don’t really have anything to be depressed about this year. As someone who deals with month-long mood swings and varying degrees of S.A.D., the month of December is usually a gauntlet of self-medication drug trials.
After remarking to Boy Roommate that I was *gasp, shock, horror!* looking forward to the holidays (and then processing the subsequent confusion wrought about his face), I sat and thought about it. I think the last time I was this genuinely excited about Christmas was 2002.
2002. Huh. That’s nine years ago.
I guess the intervening years have been wasted on the emotional fall-out of exam stress, bad relationships, break-ups, post-travel blues, post-university blues, deaths of family, deaths of friends, anxiety about the future, and perhaps just a general sense of ennui.
So why is this year different?
I don’t really know. It’s not like there’s been anything major. No lottery wins, no unprecedented publishing contracts or movie deals, no loves at first sight, no adorable street kid charming their way into my heart.
I guess it’s the minor things. I’ve come off of one of the most creatively fulfilling and productive years of my life: one novel complete and another will be done by the end of the year. I live my life in the presence of some wonderful people who love tolerate me. My family is healthy (for the most part), happy (at least some of us), but we’re always there for each other.
I guess life’s like Doctor Who: not perfect, but charming and cheeky in its own little way.
Bring on the egg nog.
“I” love you!
This post is awesome. It should be entitled why this December “will” be awesome.
My post would be two words long, and entitled “why this December will be markedly unpleasant”, and those words are “serial colonoscopies”.
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What’s wrong with serial colonoscopies? (I am assuming that you’re giving them, not getting them.)
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Fecal matter. Fecal matter is what is wrong with serial colonoscopies.
I will have to live vicariously through you guys this Christmas!
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Inexplicable happiness is a side effect of living with me.
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“Inexplicable” is right.
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I’m happy right now.
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But can you explain why? And “current lack of fecal matter” is not a valid reason.
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It’s probably not, since I did colonoscopies today… So maybe because Gregg is my roommate?
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I don’t think that hypothesis will withstand intense scientific scrutiny.
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Who is the scientist here, Ashleigh?
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You know who else had scientists?
The Nazis.
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http://xkcd.com/984/
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