Monday, November 22, 2021

On dressing like a elf, by accident (Day 327)


Today, I left the house dressed like an elf, by accident. I had no idea And then some kid at Wegmans inquired about my socks. 

"You are dressed like an elf. Are you an elf?"

I could not really see my legs, because of my mask (it limits my field of vision) and then I remembered I was indeed wearing elf-like socks and my Ugg slip-on clogs and the effect was, well, festive. 

So naturally, I summoned the holiday spirit and I glared at the little child and I hope I scared him with my mean, panicked and very, very tired eyes. 

If he only knew how amazing it was that was I showered, at Wegmans and in a pair of matching, clean socks, he'd keep his shade to himself. 

Monday, friends, has been a lot. Holiday weeks are always like this--a mad rush to having days off and chaotic, stressful deadlines made more stressful by truncated weeks, content prep for the holidays, end of year fundraising and retail sales for work, planning and preparing for holiday meals and guests and so much thinking. 

The mental load of the holiday season is intense. There are schedules to juggle, meals to make, traditions to enjoy, decorations to hang, presents to buy and wrap, cards to send, photos to take, work to do, homework to do, concerts and class parties and joy and candy canes and Santa and more parties and so much stuff. 

For me, busy is a really a good thing. Busy gives me structure and accountability; it keeps me progressing forward and forces a certain level of efficiency and prioritizing. When I am not busy, I tend to get distracted by whims and flights of fancy and flights of chaos and madness and then, well, I am completely inefficient. 

Of course, the holiday season is much more than busy--it is a concentrated period of a few weeks when we are expected to do all the things one might do in an entire year of their life. 

It is a bit insane and it is my kind of insane. I think of it like a marathon. I've never run a marathon; but I have run a half-marathon. My race was not pretty. I was a disaster. I was sweaty. My hair was a mess. I looked like I escaped from somewhere. My bones ached. But I finished and that was glorious. 

The holiday season is just like that--insane; but when you get almost all the things done, it's amazing. You might occasionally leave your house accidentally dressed like a storybook character and you might end up taking a very important call in the basement with your dog and two children while you hide from the maids (also happened today); but in the end you will reach the finish line and it will be glorious! 



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