I think I also forgot how to do Christmas. I seem to be in denial that the Christmas season is here. I have yet to make a single list, for gifts, cards, or otherwise, and no idea what I'm going to get anybody, or for that matter even what I hope to receive. I don't have any Christmas knitting projects going because I'm still working on that dagnab sweater I started way back in July for my sister's birthday (this is why I don't often do sweaters). Christmas exploded all over my mother's house, with red and/or green and/or twinkly colored lights and/or faux-pine garlands and bows and wreaths and/or nativity sets and/or shiny Santa figurines everywhere you look. But upstairs, our part of the house is such a chaotic mess that the only reason any Christmas decorations are up is because we never got around to taking them down from last year, and they've pretty much faded into the background of our perception by now.
And the thought of Christmas shopping makes me want to crawl into bed and sleep until St. Patrick's Day.
I wouldn't say it's holiday depression or even ennui--it's just not sinking through my thick skull that Christmas is here already. It feels too soon. It feels like summer just ended. It's still relatively warm here, even, at least for the most part. All of this Christmas-ness surrounding me feels surreal and out of place, and it's making ME feel surreal and out of place.
Maybe this is just what happens when you keep your head buried in your own novel for all of November. Maybe I just need to go get a peppermint latte and listen to some Christmas carols and watch Rudolph and drink some 'nog and get acclimated to the fact that 2007 is practically over already. Maybe I need to go home and plug in the Christmas lights that have been hanging unlit all year.
I mean, it's December already, you guys! When did that happen?
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