So, all year long, I’m pretty much on the “De-materialize Christmas!” soap box. Loudly.
And all year, I do pretty awesomely with it. I mean, I really MEAN it all year long.
And then THIS fucking week happens. This week, before Christmas, where I sort of freak out a little bit. Because, I feel pressured to get SHIT for PEOPLE.
I’ve been doing Christmas pretty much “shit-less” for about 4 or 5 years. But still. There are children in the family. And then I feel like a cock. I mean, I bake them cookies. But that’s it.
Anyway. Luckily I had a Beautiful Man with me when the urge to get out my credit card hit, and he reminded me who I am.
And, I’m fucking PAGAN. I don’t know why I let this shit get to me at ALL.
When I am independantly wealthy, I will TOTALLY be that bitch that either:
a) leaves town during the holidays, or
b) just TELLS everyone I’ve left for the holidays, but really I hide out at home reading and having long hot baths till it’s all over.
Grace.
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