Christmas this year was quiet. Some would say lackluster.
Tried to sleep in, but Santa brought me a stuffy nose, which made breathing through my CPAP impossible. So I got up early. Made breakfast. Cleaned the kitchen and took a shower. After dressing, mother called from the family gathering back home. Got to greet everyone through her speakerphone. Short conversation. Hangup, put on boots, go to cafe. Sat to read, and an old friend stopped by; haven’t seen her in forever, and it was good to catch up. Went home, cooked sausages, tortellini with pesto, salad. Put leggings underneath for the night cold and went to the bar. Sat next to a bar friend, but she was busy rolling up D&D character sheets and talking with someone else. Flicked between my phone and the game on the screen, even though I don’t care about football. Joked with the bartenders. They called me “Sleigh bell Shawn” as per the running gag of the night. I spelled it “S-l-a-y B-e-l-l-e Shawn” and double-snapped. “Hey, are you Slay Belle?” “Bitch I might be.” Looked at phones on my phones. Scrolled Mastodon. Now home after a heavy tip, munched on charcuterie, writing a blog.
Today was all touch, no feel.
No gifts. No tree. No luminaria. No contadas. No carols. No dinners. No rosy cheeks next to the fire. All the touchstones of the holiday season are for those who collaborate and plan and care and love and agree to meet. I don’t do that these days. I just walk into a place and see who I can see. This isn’t how adults do things. This is how people of no consequence do things. All the sad Christmas songs of the world, for all the sad sacks of the world.
Happy Holidays to one and….