I love Christmas. I tend to get a little over excited at Christmas time. I cry at the dang Folgers commercial. I act like I have never seen Christmas lights when I drive through Minden and press my face against the truck window. Jeremy hates it when I do that - he says it leaves smears on his windows. Killjoy. I almost lose it whenever Rudolph comes on prime time. I turn up radio and sing Christmas carols like I'm a rockstar. I don't care if they all cover their ears or give me dirty looks - my coworkers secretly love it. I almost go into a diabetic coma eating all the candy everyone sends - I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I scared a poor little patient yesterday whenever I asked her what she wanted for Christmas and she said "The Michael Jackson Wii game," and then I screamed "Oh,OOOOH, meeee too!". She jumped and looked a little frightened. I may have even spit on her a little bit. I just love Christmas. But then my anxiety sets in and I panic a little bit. I realize that I haven't gotten everything done I wanted to do. I start counting all the things that are still not done and I have a small nervous breakdown. I cry, press my face against the wall, lose it, sing loud, eat, and yell - but it ain't the happy excited kind. I still have Christmas cards to mail, gifts to buy, candy to make, decorating to do and cheer to spread. I start to count the days and I can't believe it's right here staring me in the face. But right before I have the melt down in the aisles of the Wal-Marts, I stop and breath and talk to people and realize - everyone is in the same boat and even if everything isn't Norman Rockwell perfect - it is perfect. We celebrate and rejoice because every year no matter what Christmas comes without fail. It will be just as perfect as the first Christmas even if I don't buy one present or hang one wreath. I just have to remind myself every year.
'Til Tomorrow
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