This is the best time of the year, the spirit, the joy, the fun, the parties, the gifts, the shopping, the traditions, the everything we wait all year for is here, and I'm missing it.
After being sick for longer than I can even remember, here we are three days before Christmas and I still can't muster the energy to do all the things I love the most. Wrap presents. Bake. Driving to see Christmas lights. And it's making me feel very grinchy.
This is my FIRST MARRIED CHRISTMAS. I had visions of romantic dinners by the Christmas tree, and late nights sneaking presents under that tree. Cold Christmas mornings snuggled under blankets opening our economical and thoughtful gifts together. Making homemade cinnamon rolls and then hitting the roads to see our families to celebrate.
None of that seems like it will happen now. It's more like struggling home late from work, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner and lighting enough candles in the house so it doesn't smell like a dead lizard (a whole different story). I'm lucky if I plug in the lights to the Christmas tree.
I need some pixie dust or something from Santa to break me out of this funk. Because, by golly, I will not miss Christmas!
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