Showing posts from January, 2013

The post Christmas humbug

It’s the “now what?” little bit of depression that comes with having successfully survived another holiday and the aftermath that follows.  It’s drifting in and out of a turkey and frosting induced sleep and snuggled up with tissue paper, while dreams of having every last pine needle and wrapping paper scrap picked up and gone dance through your head.  You spent so many weeks decking the halls, now you feel like the halls have decked you and you’re plum without a speck of holiday cheer. This is the way it has always been.  You even start to throw away entire cookie trays because they’ve somehow turned to crumbs overnight, as if to say, “OK, I’m done with all this sitting.  I think I’ll just let myself crumble and everyone can get on with their lives.” Of course there are also the toys that keep you busy for a day or two after Christmas.  You know, the ones that come packaged more secure than the First Federal Bank of the Universe.  And you slice open your fingers on sealed plasti