Something about panicking nonstop since Thanksgiving really detracts from the Christmas spirit. Despite people around me singing Christmas carols, seeing all the displays in shops and decorations in the dorm hallways, and being in a Christmassy musical, I haven’t really woken up to the fact that Christmas is less than a week away.
School didn’t let out until yesterday. I’ve been frantically working on projects for a month, barely coming up for air between due dates and performances. Now I’m home, and I’m very aware that it is suddenly Christmas.
The sky outside is grey and hazy. The tree is covered in whimsical decorations. The house smells of pine needles and brown sugar. Karen Carpenter is wishing everyone from one to ninety-two a merry Christmas. I read Stave One of A Christmas Carol this morning. Mother and I braved the hoard of last-minute mall shoppers yesterday. We’ll be cooking for the rest of the day, preparing for tomorrow’s festivities.
Christmas is here. It’s been here for a month, but I haven’t been able to notice it. At last, I can put up my feet and reflect on why this time of year happens anyway.
Better late than never.