I’m not quite sure, though I could list a few possibilities.
I’m coming off medication again so my body is a little under siege.
As if it’s being hurled out of a twelve-story window.
Though I grip and gird my loins, it’s still never an easy process.
Then we have Christmas that is in full Manhattan swing with all its own, not so great splendor. Pressure rules as stores, already on sale, bulge with irate, hysterical shoppers making you ask…with attitudes like these…what is the point?
I literally tripped over a kid having a tantrum in Bloomigdales because his father refused to buy him a dirt bike. He was three.
I’ve been trying to rally opting for cheerful ways to brighten myself so I don’t succumb, or become, like that little kid expecting the impossible to come down my chimney, so to speak.
See if I were him, I’d start low, like asking for a hot dog, because let’s face it, if Santa can’t manage that, where are we exactly?
I reread David Sedaris’s, Holiday On Ice, laughing in spite of myself when he was an elf at Macy’s.
I bought new socks at Uniglo throwing out a dozen oldies with holes the size of Swiss cheese.
I even brought home sprays of evergreen to strew across the window sills…let me tell you, this was big.
But the thing that rallied me more than all three of those worthwhile acts were the Google Images I found when I typed in sweet animals.
I realize I did this a week or so ago.
Just view it as an encore.
an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.