I wasn’t the first person putting up the tree in my life. Facebook occupied thirty minutes in one day, today, and I realized not only was it November, I still couldn’t handle the clutter of last December. And beyond that, what was winter going to even look like this year? There’s a running scream in in my head about it that I’m pretty sure my subconscious had a pretty good hold on before tonight. Because when I was married the highlight of the season was holding on to what felt good and sitting alone with Bart the poodle, alone, looking at the tree, listening to Christmas canon in the dark when my husband is upstairs having no part. Sorry, we are waiting and we have not forgotten.
Jeffrey is vomiting in the next room this second, conveniently.
I feel like there’s plenty going on that I’m not processing right now to survive. How many thousands of things is the mind capable of processing on a daily basis? Alexa? …. 70,000. That feels like a harsh understatement. Certainly, she meant per minute.
Facebook is so gross. I need to run an ad campaign soon promoting Etsy… Sorry, my shop.
Let’s go, Christmas. Full steam ahead!