I’m not exactly in the Christmas spirit this year, and I’m not exactly sure why. Our tree is up and decorated, my shopping is all done, and my mom is rocking out to Michael Bolton singing Christmastastic magic, circa 1995 (when he still had the luxurious flowing mane). MB alone should have me sitting near the fireplace, anxiously awaiting Santa and his bag of gifty awesomeness.
But, alas, I am not excited for the big guy or Christmas in general. Siiiiiighhh.
I’m thinking it might be because it’s too warm for snow, so there won’t be a white Christmas…and maybe because all it’s really done all year is rain, rain, rain and I’m just depressed that we’ve had a rainy December. A soggy, muddy Christmas is not exactly the stuff of Christmas classics (“I’m dreaming of a muddy Christmas” just doesn’t have the same ring to it). Maybe it’s because Corporate America has been shoving Christmas down our throats since right around Halloween. I think I may have actually rolled my eyes at the juxtaposition of Halloween decorations and Christmas crap thrown together at Target–because, you know, we all love to have our bloody skulls wearing Santa hats. It adds that extra bit of undead class, you know? It also may have been the Christmas music playing 24/7 on two radio stations since the week before Thanksgiving–and I’m guessing Thanksgiving will soon be known as Black Friday Eve. We don’t even really dwell on the meaning of the holidays anymore. It’s just consumerism.