holidaze

seems like so much stuff
yet when it’s all under tree
doesn’t seem like much

Is it the size of the Christmas tree, or just the size of my shrinking bank account? I’m getting conflicting reports about the Christmas presents this year. I thought we’d really gone overboard, but now that I’ve wrapped some things, it’s like there’s nothing there.

I know this shouldn’t bother me. I should eschew holiday materialism. But I really, really like buying people fun presents. I am not a practical gifter. You will not get socks and stemware from me. If you have gotten anything close to that from me, blame my husband, who is the king of all practical gifting. He gets me stuff like comforters for my birthday – nice things – but not toys; not the kind of stuff you wouldn’t buy for yourself. (THAT was an awkward sentence.)

Anyway, my bank account tells me that we’ve gone insane. Yet my tree tells me things look bleak. I must have lost some bags somewhere. Something mysterious is up. Maybe it is the Ghost of Christmas Materialism trying to teach me a lesson.

By the way, speaking of lessons, I learned a very important one yesterday. It’s not nice to prejudge your car mechanic. After giving me a free loaner car, letting me keep it overnight, washing and vacuuming my car, giving me a sweet deal on my state inspection (it was five months overdue and they gave me the sticker for December anyway), I was only charged $88 for all the maintenance they did, AND they threw in the labor for fixing my blown out brake light for free. I heart my dealership service center. They rock my world and I’m sorry I was skeptical.

Now it is time to stop writing and start eating. The Gestator is hungry and my mouth is full of spit. I have a five minute window before the queasiness sets in. Shit. What can I eat? Whaaaaaaaat? Does green tea count as food?

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