Sunday, November 24, 2013
Yesterday, I was grocery shopping at Kroger and a lady stocking the yogurt mentioned that Thanksgiving is later than normal this year.
I hadn't even noticed, but I think I like it.
There are two groups of people, you know.
Like Republicans and Democrats.
Calvinists and Armenians.
There are those who are okay with doing Christmasy things before Thanksgiving and those who wait until after Thanksgiving.
I'm on team After Thanksgiving.
Mainly because Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I love food.
I will admit... I bought a pack of Holiday Blend K-cups.
Yesterday, I had a Peppermint Mocha.
This morning, I woke up early. I was going to write, but all I could do was reminisce and read Emily Freeman's archived blog posts about writing.
When I was walking down the steps for 6:00 a.m. snuggles with Michael, I thought about digging out the Christmas decorations.
But, I will wait.
Because I'm off on Thursday and Friday, and I'd rather do it when I can finish it, than start it and have a mess around here for a few days.
I remember this time last year.
Being tired and worn out and war-weary in my post-election fog.
I didn't want to make any big life decisions until I took a month off of work.
So much for that.
I took a phone call at work one day, from a 757 number.
It was some guy named Jim who wanted to talk to me about WAVY and journalism and news philosophy.
The next thing I knew, I was talking to him on the phone again, in the Panera parking lot.
Then, I bought a brown suit and went in for an interview.
The next thing I knew, boxes were piled seven feet high in our apartment on Christmas and I was neck deep in a search for a house built on a slab, with a downstairs bedroom and bathroom with 31 inch door ways.
We moved in January.
So that life could slow down.
You know the story.
Because I've been stuck in it for the last year. It's all I can seem to write about.
Moving back 'home' hasn't been what I thought it would be, in a lot of ways.
This turned out to be a hard year.
Workaholism rearing its head in a big, ugly way.
I've been learning a lot about myself this year.
That is never fun, but I do encourage it.
I feel ready to decorate for Christmas.
I feel ready to celebrate.
I feel ready to welcome a new year.
I feel ready to share parts of myself with you in a new, fresh way that scares me.
And most of all, I feel ready to move on.