I have my own reasons for this. December is usually a bad month for me. This year more so.
But I had three conversations in the office today, with people who are feeling very *tired* of work, who want to curl up in a ball or hide out or tell everyone that rubs them the wrong way what they really think. Maybe it’s a Canadian thing, or a Northern clime thing. That need to shrink one’s world to a warm blanket and the warmer glow of a tv or a fireplace. Only a select few allowed to break through the perimeter for the occasional conversation or semblance of human contact.
I’ll be doing my version of Festivus again this year: basically me and the cat, a selection of movies and/or Joss Whedon DVDs, alcohol and my favorite red fuzzy blanket. I guess the tough part is thinking about the possibility of how it might have been different…
It can STILL be different. You’re not dead, nor ENTIRELY what you were. And you’re the one choosing to “celebrate” like this.