It used to be okay but in the last three years an alarming new tradition formed: my mum gets terribly sick a couple of days before the whole Christmas madness starts and expects me to do everything in her stead.
So she lies propped up in the couch and croaks orders at me. My mum suffers from an almost painful perfectionism I just do not share so we inadvertently end up fighting over the most stupid things. There are no shopping lists for anything, my dad flees to the garage to escape the madness and I run around like a headless chicken.
I look forward to it. There are things I find to be a chore about it (buying gifts, traveling on the worst travel days of the year at super hiked-up prices, etc), but so far it hasn't lost its charm. I still like all the decorations and music, the different sort of atmosphere, the nostalgia that takes me back to being a kid.
Hate them. Religious fanatics incorrectly foam at the mouth over "keep christ in xmas" and if it's not that idiocy online, it's dollar sign days at the store. There is no holiday spirit, it's all a kept-alive ruse to make money off of at this point.
I know I should look forward to it, and some parts I do: seeing extended relatives like my Stepdad's parents, his brother and his brother's partner. Our Christmas day is really relaxed and laid back, and we just chat and eat and watch rubbish on TV.
But I'll never get to spend it with the person I love. And for that reason, and that reason alone, I hate it.
i love the holiday season which would seem out of character for me. i love the good feelings that go around and the music and decorations however pretentious it can get. the gifts are inconsequential for me, i just love the parties and the all around celebration that goes on.
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It used to be okay but in the last three years an alarming new tradition formed: my mum gets terribly sick a couple of days before the whole Christmas madness starts and expects me to do everything in her stead.
So she lies propped up in the couch and croaks orders at me. My mum suffers from an almost painful perfectionism I just do not share so we inadvertently end up fighting over the most stupid things.
There are no shopping lists for anything, my dad flees to the garage to escape the madness and I run around like a headless chicken.
So yes, dread it. Absolutely!
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But I'll never get to spend it with the person I love. And for that reason, and that reason alone, I hate it.
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