Christmas? I guess it is Christmas
It doesn't feel like Christmas Eve, I will tell you that. In fact, it feels no different from any other day of the year. Tomorrow will probably be the same.
Do you remember when you woke up on Christmas or on your birthday and leapt out of bed full of anticipation? Why do we stop looking forward to these days? And why do we fail, after a while, to summon up excitement on the morning in question?
You just get older, I think. After a while a birthday becomes something you would rather forget than celebrate, and Christmas becomes an uncomfortable and claustrophobic thing. And the presents you get are no damn fun anymore after the ratio of practical presents to toys goes through the roof. You have to get really inventive to play with a pair of socks. But you're an adult now, so you can appreciate practical presents like new clothes -- right?
I'm not even getting to spend this Christmas with my family, because they rescheduled everything at the last moment and I had to choose which family's party I was going to, mine or my wife's. My family's been through rough times recently and some of them are even sick, but no, I'm not going to get to see them... See, it's crap like this that makes it not feel like a holiday anymore -- all this scheduling and driving around town and not having a house of my own to decorate or room to put up a tree or money to buy my wife a present and there's never any God damn snow around here...
It's just another day full of messes and hazards and potential screw-ups. Nothing special about it anymore, now that I'm grown up. Once you hit twenty-five, all the fun goes out of the world.
Do you remember when you woke up on Christmas or on your birthday and leapt out of bed full of anticipation? Why do we stop looking forward to these days? And why do we fail, after a while, to summon up excitement on the morning in question?
You just get older, I think. After a while a birthday becomes something you would rather forget than celebrate, and Christmas becomes an uncomfortable and claustrophobic thing. And the presents you get are no damn fun anymore after the ratio of practical presents to toys goes through the roof. You have to get really inventive to play with a pair of socks. But you're an adult now, so you can appreciate practical presents like new clothes -- right?
I'm not even getting to spend this Christmas with my family, because they rescheduled everything at the last moment and I had to choose which family's party I was going to, mine or my wife's. My family's been through rough times recently and some of them are even sick, but no, I'm not going to get to see them... See, it's crap like this that makes it not feel like a holiday anymore -- all this scheduling and driving around town and not having a house of my own to decorate or room to put up a tree or money to buy my wife a present and there's never any God damn snow around here...
It's just another day full of messes and hazards and potential screw-ups. Nothing special about it anymore, now that I'm grown up. Once you hit twenty-five, all the fun goes out of the world.