Christmas Eve Eve Eve

Yesterday it was a glorious 72’ in McKinney, and the dogs and I had a nice Walk ‘n Roll™ in our respective shorts and furry pantalones. Today was a brisk 41’ and the sky was grey and peeing all over north Texas.

I worked from home the last part of the week, which is awesome if you’re not me. I’m the most anti-social person I know, but after three days of Alfie’s laser-beam bedroom eyes testing out his doggie Vulcan mind meld on me so I’ll give him my sandwich, I needed to get out of the house or I was going to go nuts on Amazon Prime and end up with a 10-year supply of HVAC filters or a new Cuisinart Bread Maker because that stuff starts to sound like a good idea when you’re bored with no one to talk sense into you. I had planned to work only a couple of hours today and then get a nice start on my holiday vacation. Instead I woke up at 6:45, made some coffee, booted up at 7 am, got enraged at one or two things, sent a very un-holiday-like greeting to a vendor who had ticked me off, and 6 hours later finally emerged with a raging headache, greasy hair and very high blood pressure.

So I wanted to get out of the house, even if it’s the day before the day before the day before Christmas, and only gluttons for punishment would darken the door of any retail establishment at this point. I really needed to eat something before I left, but there was nothing in the house, even counting the fully stocked pantry and an orange in the fruit bowl.

I headed to Target. It was a zoo, as to be expected. I didn’t have any good reason for being there, so I made something up like I “needed” a sweatshirt – not a windbreaker, nor a sweat-wicking high-performance pullover, or a Christmas statement hoodie like “Where my Ho’s At?“ or “It’s the Most Wonderful Time for a Beer” or, God forbid, “I’m So Naughty Santa Came Twice”. I just wanted a nice, fluffy sweatshirt that is a color other than gray or black. Is that so hard?

Yes, it is. I scoured the women’s, juniors, men’s and even the maternity sections, and nothing doing. I caught a glimpse of myself in a full-length mirror near the fitting rooms and, now in a resplendently bad mood, saw my grey leggings and grey sweatshirt and grey hair and new Asics (heeeeyy!!), and thought, “I look like an elephant. A big, grey, old, fat elephant wearing awesome sneakers.” Resigned, because I’d spent 30 minutes in a holiday Target with nothing to show for it, I then determined I was going to buy something. I found a set of handkerchiefs with an “F” for Frank and mulled over the idea of buying them for my Dad’s birthday in January. I browsed the greeting card section, sniffed a few candles, looked over some picture frames. I couldn’t pull the trigger. Finally I remembered that the Red Tide is coming soon, so I grabbed a box of tampons, marched defiantly to the checkout line, and yes, I made eye contact with everyone I encountered.

I won’t get into my grocery store run, other than to say that, A.) It’s a poor idea to go there on an empty stomach, and B.) For a nation that is in the throes of The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, nobody looked like they were having any fun, and that’s a shame.

Merry Christmas from Shasta, Daisy Mae and Alfie. May it be a blessed season of rest and remembrance with loved ones that make you smile, and when it counts, laugh.