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dolariWhen my mom was a kid, her family was very poor. Christmas for her and her brothers and sisters (sixteen in all) was usually just a small gift, an apple and an orange. There was a small tree, a few sparse ornaments, and a manger in the corner. It wasn't much, but it was Christmas.
Fast forward to 1980 or so. My mom's married, we have a two person income, and for the first time in a long time, we're prosperous - that's when it all began....
I'm a Christmas Burnout. Not because of work or anything, I'm no Scrooge, heck I'm not even being a militant anti-Christian-everything type. I've just been a burned out for a VERY long time, since I was probably about twelve.
Ever seen those television specials, where everything is decked out to the max, lights everywhere, knick knacks and ornaments, gentle music in the background? That's the kind of holiday my mother wanted. And, totally to her credit, she did everything possible to make it happen.
She had everything decked out to the max. She had lights everywhere. Knick knacks? She got them. Gentle music, you bet. Cookies. Pies. Turkey and dressing. The only thing that was missing was David Bowie and Bing Crosby coming through the door to sing a duet with her.
It's a total winter wonderland, the dream of every child, the house every Martha Stewart homemaker wants.
The problem was...this would last from November 1st to about February 28th.
24 hours of Christmas music.
Three months of blinking lights.
The smell of pine throughout the house every day (and this was before I discovered I had a pine allergy).
Then, as time went on, she got...wierd. Like the time we had NINE CHRISTMAS TREES. A live one. For every room of the house, INCLUDING the three bathrooms (itty bitty ones). Or the time I was hanging off a two story roof facing a sheer drop because all the overhangs had to be decorated in lights (which, I think, triggerd my fear of heights).
Every year, from 1980 to 1995.
I'm no Scrooge. I like the idea behind Christmas. I enjoy giving gifts to friends.
I hate the music.
I hate the lights.
I hate the smell of pine.
While most of the 120 hours of work has been involuntary (You can't leave till you touch every call made up to closing, no matter how many), a few have been me working hours for other people so they could get Christmas shopping done, or giving people time to get errands done and what not. I'm not a big fan of 12/25, but I don't mind letting other people enjoy it.
I still visit family on Christmas, and get the onslaught for a few hours. Just enough for it to get on my nerves. But what would I like for Christmas? The Christmases I had in PA. Just a nice quiet night with friends exchanging gifts. No Manheim Steamroller, no artificial pine sent, no obnoxious lights.
Just good company and good friends. :)
Maybe a few inches of snow, too.
Fast forward to 1980 or so. My mom's married, we have a two person income, and for the first time in a long time, we're prosperous - that's when it all began....
I'm a Christmas Burnout. Not because of work or anything, I'm no Scrooge, heck I'm not even being a militant anti-Christian-everything type. I've just been a burned out for a VERY long time, since I was probably about twelve.
Ever seen those television specials, where everything is decked out to the max, lights everywhere, knick knacks and ornaments, gentle music in the background? That's the kind of holiday my mother wanted. And, totally to her credit, she did everything possible to make it happen.
She had everything decked out to the max. She had lights everywhere. Knick knacks? She got them. Gentle music, you bet. Cookies. Pies. Turkey and dressing. The only thing that was missing was David Bowie and Bing Crosby coming through the door to sing a duet with her.
It's a total winter wonderland, the dream of every child, the house every Martha Stewart homemaker wants.
The problem was...this would last from November 1st to about February 28th.
24 hours of Christmas music.
Three months of blinking lights.
The smell of pine throughout the house every day (and this was before I discovered I had a pine allergy).
Then, as time went on, she got...wierd. Like the time we had NINE CHRISTMAS TREES. A live one. For every room of the house, INCLUDING the three bathrooms (itty bitty ones). Or the time I was hanging off a two story roof facing a sheer drop because all the overhangs had to be decorated in lights (which, I think, triggerd my fear of heights).
Every year, from 1980 to 1995.
I'm no Scrooge. I like the idea behind Christmas. I enjoy giving gifts to friends.
I hate the music.
I hate the lights.
I hate the smell of pine.
While most of the 120 hours of work has been involuntary (You can't leave till you touch every call made up to closing, no matter how many), a few have been me working hours for other people so they could get Christmas shopping done, or giving people time to get errands done and what not. I'm not a big fan of 12/25, but I don't mind letting other people enjoy it.
I still visit family on Christmas, and get the onslaught for a few hours. Just enough for it to get on my nerves. But what would I like for Christmas? The Christmases I had in PA. Just a nice quiet night with friends exchanging gifts. No Manheim Steamroller, no artificial pine sent, no obnoxious lights.
Just good company and good friends. :)
Maybe a few inches of snow, too.
