|Our living room, last Christmas.|
It’s nice and quiet in here this Sunday morning.
The sun is slowly seeping through my sliding glass door, noticeably later than usual, and our home is clean.
I know about the dust and grime and grit that is underneath things and behind things and way on top of things.
And all of that drives me crazy.
But not crazy enough to get on my hands and knees, or on top of a ladder to do anything about it.
It looks clean and smells clean in here, and that is wonderful.
I’m not sure why, but I’m just not feeling Christmasy yet.
I feel like I lost Fall.
My Fall was spent on the campaign trail, covering the Presidential debates. And that was fun, and exciting, but it stole my Fall.
There’s a pumpkin on my porch, still, this December 2nd.
And I thought maybe yesterday I would feel like getting the Christmas stuff down, but I didn’t.
And I’m thinking about it again today.
But I’m also thinking it’s going to be like 60 degrees here today and I might need to get Mr. Wonderful out of the house to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather.
And a trip to Ikea may be in order.
So, maybe after that I will decorate for Christmas.
I’m not a Grinch. I promise.
I’ve already been to one Holiday Party.
I’ve already bought a few Christmas presents.
And made magic bars.
I’m just not ready for the Christmas clutter.
Quick, someone please tell me I’m not alone here.
I think I need another vacation. And by another, I mean the 10 day vacation I just wrapped up about a week ago was apparently not enough. I can tell. My mind and body are still so tightly wound.
I wish I had a “relax” button.