This is my least favorite day of my favorite holiday. And as I sit here looking at the pile of books I planned to read and papers I planned to write…I am looking at the laundry I was going to do, too…well, shoot, I feel like I am losing control of my own holidays.
I don’t shop — at least not in the common and vulgar post-Thanksgiving way–so I don’t have that to blame; it would be my own damn fault if I did go out to the malls and waste my holidays. I prefer to sneak out during the work week and I am fortunate to have that option. Or I enjoy going to a more traditional route, like a neighborhood of small shops (especially if it is snowing and there is a wine bar or two).
I didn’t tackle any major projects. My office-now-turned-storage-room is as horrible as ever. My bedroom air conditioner still sits in the window, too. And there is the problem Kraus, the house mouse. No worries, all of that can wait on a holiday.
So where did my time go?
I think part of it is the holiday itself. Too much time with people. I love people. I work with them every day. (Oh, by the way, got my first few emails already this morning: “Shane, can you call me first thing Monday morning? I don’t recall agreeing to…” Mercy.) I even tend to fall in love around Thanksgiving. I think it is the playful holiday season socializing that is nice to share, especially when you can avoid commitments under the cover of being attached. Whatever it is, don’t underestimate the power people have over your time, especially during the holidays.
I’m getting to an age, too…creeping up on middle age?…when it isn’t as much fun “recovering” by slamming down a few cold Pabst Blue Ribbons the next day to recharge. That only makes my eyes saggy anyway. And it will be just my bad luck that I’ll keel over in a crush of aluminum cans in some Minneapolis dive bar, die, and not remember it. That would only prove my ex-in-laws right.
So guess what I am going to do today? I am going to watch football, of course. I am not even a passive fan this year. I learned the Viking’s quarterback’s name a few weeks ago (Ponder) and I still don’t know what a tight end does. But I’ll go, order a glass of wine, and watch all the people watching the game. Ultimately I will have an ok time. Then I’ll have a good time. (I do like my friends.)
Ultimately, however…this is the end, not collapsing into beer cans end (I presume), but the end of the holiday. It makes me a wee bit sad and disappointed. Increasingly, though, as I get older, it is a matter of frustration, too. Time isn’t quite as limitless as it once was.