..winter wonderland?

I’ve been told that the lack of seasonal weather is about to come to an end here in SEPA (south eastern Pennsylvania… when you’re from the northern part of the state, you grow up thinking NEPA is an actual word, or if you’re my sister, a state all its own).  We’re forcasted to get about 6 inches of snow and this is going to really mix up my holiday travel plans.  I had intentions of leaving tomorrow for my parents house for Christmas, but it looks like I’ll be sticking around just a few more days.  This means a queen sized bed to myself, free reign over the bathroom, and enjoying the early bedtime of about 10:30.  

As I sat at work today–mailing 1,052 letters, mind you–I realized that I have no interest in the holiday this year.  Typically after Thanksgiving, I’m in full holiday spirit, begging to decorate the house and buy gifts for my loved ones.  While the tree was set up the night we got back to our place, I haven’t really felt in the spirit much unless I’m home.  I love our tree and the idea of getting things for people I care about, but come on, some old guy strumming away at an upright bass crooning horrible Christmas songs?  No, not fun.  Moms trampling each other at Wal Mart? Doesn’t seem cheery to me.  Maybe it’s just my age, or maybe it’s cynicism catching up to me, but this Christmas stuff seems to be for the birds.  Sure, I love the family and the sharing and the idea behind it all, but honestly, where in God’s name did we get so far away from what it really means?  

I’m assuming Furbies had something to do with it.

So, I guess I’m hoping a few inches of snow gets me excited (and not terrified, as I have to drive my death-trap car 1oo-odd miles in the next few days) about the upcoming festivities and less grinchy.  As long as I don’t hear another Christmas carol between now and the 25th, I should be just fine.

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