I’m in that strange time/space vortex somewhere between Boxing Day and the New Year where I have absolutely no clue what day it is. Is it Sunday? Is it the 30th? What day is the 30th? What day of the week did Christmas fall on this year? Are we ushering in the New Year tonight? No idea.
I’ve looked at the calendar on my fridge countless times now but I just can’t seem to commit that shit to memory. I swear, with each rich and sugary goodie consumed, I lose another brain cell. It’s been a lovely break, but I’m starting to get a little Christmas cranky now. I just can’t find a balance.
I took the Christmas tree down yesterday; catapulted that beautiful seven foot blue spruce right off my deck. Someone else can take it to the mulcher. I’ve done my part. All of my lovely decorations have been wrapped in tissue, boxed back up, and moved to their home under the stairs for the next eleven months – all six Rubbermaid containers and twelve huge boxes of them.
It was a lovely Christmas, now I just want it out of my house and for this fog to lift. I have big plans for 2015. I mean 2016.