Okay, people. This is getting serious. I have GOT to try and get in some kind of holiday spirit.
I used to LOVE the holidays. I’ve talked about my Charlie Brown Christmas Special fixation here already, but that was just the beginning. I loved buying the tree, doing Christmas cards, having parties, shopping for gifts, the whole shebang. This year, though, whenever I think about doing these things I just feel….blah. I’m not even sure I want a tree. What’s the deal?
Maybe it’s that I’ve just been swamped with grading papers and traveling to Asheville. Or the fact that we’re in the midst of the second day in a row of heavy, gray weather, so freaking depressing. But something’s got to give! I can’t sleepwalk through the holidays, barely aware of them at all, it’s not right. I feel like I’m in one of those awful holiday Made for TV movies about girl who’s lost her Christmas mojo, and at any moment someone like Tony Danza or Valerie Bertinelli is going to pop up to give me an important life lesson reminding me of The True Meaning of the Season. Until then, though, I guess I’m on my own. Maybe I do need to buy a tree, and put up some ornaments, and that will kick start the whole process? Or go buy a bunch of toys for Toys for Tots, or canned food for the food drive? Oh, I don’t know.
Meanwhile, in other news, I am sad to say I have a new show addiction: The Biggest Loser. Who’s the biggest loser? Well, honestly, it might be me, for how sucked in I have become to this show. Two teams, competing to see who can lose the most weight. One has crunchy, granola-guy trainer: the other, crack-the-whip-drop-and-give-me-five-hundred-crunches woman. Drama! Label reading! Calorie counting! Snarky remarks! Oh, man. I don’t think this show is that popular, though, and last night I told my husband that and he said he wondered why, since it is pretty interesting. Then he decided that it was probably because unlike most reality shows, they aren’t competing, in the long run, for sex or love or money, but for better health and increased self-esteem. And how interesting is that to the average viewer? Clearly, though, I am not average. I love this show.
See, that’s just sad. I can get revved up about Big Mo losing 14 lbs, but not Christmas. Well, at least it’s only the seventh. There’s still time for tidings of comfort and joy. Maybe tomorrow?
have a good day everyone!