Blue Christmas
Christmas was... a little disappointing. It's lost that excited magic it once had (perhaps because I persisted in my bad habit of peeking at some of my presents), and was just a day of family events sandwiched in between the packing and coursework and goodbyes needed for someone about to move across the continent. I mean, Christmas wasn't bad -- I ate a delicious meal, played hilarious games, got lovely gifts (some all the more lovely because they were utterly unexpected -- that's why I shouldn't peek!), and had some good conversations. But in general I'm still mired in holiday blues, feeling like I've got too much to do, and everything's a chore. Even, most distressingly, visiting wonderful people and having good times with old friends. I don't feel like a kid anymore, and as Joel pointed out to me today, I seem to be defining adulthood mostly in terms of wearying commitments. Which is not the way it should be.
I'm depressing myself with this post, so here's a random list of things that make me happy:
1. Feeling pretty and girly and learning the secret ways of the Makeup.
2. Bill Bryson
3. Hats
4. Bad Sci-fi shows with no substance but lots of pretty people and funny one-liners
5. Onion Gravy
There. That should stave off the blues at least until I get to bed and get some sleep, which is probably what I really need.
posted by bento at 7:01 PM
3 Comments:
Joel's absolutely right (for once). You should be defining adulthood as wearying responsibilities, not commitments. There's a big difference.
Well, sort of.
I found Christmas to be very disappointing in years past until there were once again little kids around the tree. Then something happened and it all became very delightful again. I think you might want to look into loaning some babies for next year.
8:04 PM
"defining adulthood as a series of wearying commitments"
Oh man, this is spot on. I definitely have no idea how to avoid doing that, though. We can brainstorm once you are in the same province as me....in one week!! :)
6:54 AM
I tend to see commitments as a mixed bag. There are dreary commitments that seem to do nothing more than dissolve time leaving you empty and unfulfilled, but then there are the commitments that yield results and advance one existence. I live for those feelings of accomplishment.
Childhood involved neither of these feelings in any significant measure. Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days of carefree disregard for real responsibilities, but in the end I think that would only lead to a life of wasted potential.
8:51 PM
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