The softer side of me

Yes, it's true, I am not that cynical around the holidays. This weekend, Chas and I made an attempt at showing our holiday spirits by hanging lights on the little tree out front. It looks more like a few kids who haven't discovered spatial relationships hung them up but none the less, we now have a replica of "Charlie Brown's" tree in our front yard. It isn't as flamboyant as some of our neighbor's but at least we are conserving energy. Wasteful Republicans down here, ya know.

In addition, we took pictures for our Christmas card. I haven't sent a Christmas card in years because, again, I realize how much work goes into the simplest of gestures. This year was no different. I aptly chose a card where you can easily insert a photo. But I had to first generate a list of addresses I didn't have, bug people to get them and then put together the cards. Yes, I bought one that required a little assembly, not much, but a little. Then, I have to wait a week to get the proofs back of the pictures, choose the less embarassing one, affix a stamp and send before Christmas. It's taken me over a week to do all this. So, I quickly have realized that when all is said and done, it will have taken me weeks to complete. Jeeeeeeeeezus.

Onto another Christmas note....

Ever hear of an earworm? Well, it's sort of a technical term for music/jingles that get stuck in your ear and mind in an endless loop. This morning I woke up with the Amy Grant version of "It's the most wonderful time of the year". Why? I'll tell you. My office-mate, is VERY into all things Christmas and wants to listen to Christmas carols all day. Her preferece is either that or Rush Limbaugh's talk radio show. I'll take the carols as a "compromise" being the bleeding heart that I am. The result of my selfless and somewhat masochistic agreement is now, I have Burl Ives, Andy Williams and Perry Como sereneding me while I fumble my way through piles of paperwork on my desk. Not entirely "festive" while getting computer glare. Although, when the Karen Carpenter version of "I'll be home for Christmas" comes on, I "thrill" my co-workers with fun facts like "Did you know that when they did her autopsy, her heart was the consistency of applesauce?" It gets a priceless expression. Merry Christmas, guys.

Now, I have been nostalgic in the past about carols. I remember when my sisters and I would pile into her freezing cold, 1990 Civic late on Christmas Eve, drive back to my Mom's from my Dad's listening to the Peggy Lee classic "Rockin' around the Christmas Tree" while we envisioned the second load of gifts awaiting us. But now, I am associating these beloved carols with office work, deadlines and my horrible office chair and it has become the audio equivalent of Chinese water torture.

I make due, and actually sing along falsetto while I refill my stapler and check the clock repeatedly.

So, I think I am doing pretty good despite. I have lights up, carols blazing, cards a-mailing but haven't even started shopping. One thing at a time. Let's just hope I don't slip and fall and impale myself on an ornament when we put up our tree.