I’ll have to check with The Pope, but I’m pretty sure Christmas falls on the same day every year. And yet, somehow it catches me by surprise. I was vindicated a little by someone telling me that Thanksgiving was late; therefore the whole magical time between Thanksgiving and Christmas was cut off by an entire week, so that’s something, at least.
However, it seems like every year lately, I have that “oh crap, Christmas is next week” moment. This year I’m flying solo Christmas morning, due to a half planned trip that fell through and, well, a lot of work.
So I had plans. I was going to get a tree and rebuild my Christmas decoration stash, which was lost in a mixup with an ex girlfriend years ago. Oh, such plans they were, and that’s what they stayed. My tree situation, as of Christmas eve, was rather bleak:
I’ll blame the mid December trip to London, but it’s still pretty weak – the tree would have rightly survived through not even a week of being gone. There’s all of the work that I can’t ignore – this year has been a crazy warm-up for what looks like is coming for next – but I’m a little sad I didn’t get a tree (I’m into getting the real ones). Nevertheless, this little last minute setup seems right for this year. And what was intended as a full day of solo reflection has become busy at the last minute, which is a nice surprise.