This Is Not a Hallmark Christmas Special

As many of you know, I was on jury duty this week, until I came home from Day 1 yesterday and tested positive for covid (little-known fact: this does not get me out of jury duty, it simply defers it.) So I have spent the past 24+ hours in bed with a really nasty case of it — this variant is NOT here to play around and scoffs at things like my booster and masking and my previous cases. I don't even know where I got it, so to anyone I inadvertently exposed, I'm truly sorry.

People have been amazing, bringing by food and oximeters to lend (turns out mine was reading several pints low so a new one stopped me from freaking out so much) and pie and hot toddies and gag kleenex boxes and the like. I have amazing friends.

I've missed several important events but that does not seem like such a big deal right now.

You see, December 12 is the day I always kind of start to lose it. December 12 is the day that my mom went into the hospital via the ER, never to come out again. It's a kind of deathly advent, leading up to Christmas Day when she died.

And so every year at this time, I get into a funk (don't believe me? Go ahead and search "Christmas" on this blog and you'll see So Many Posts.) I know that funk, and know that if I don't get ahead of it with holiday planning and shopping and decorating and scheduling it's going to be ugly. 

And this year it looks like it's going to be a little ugly (though the tree is up and Beatrix made some cookies on baking day at Norwegian dance and such). Hopefully I'll get sprung from here by the end of the week, but the way I feel now, I can't imagine it. At best, it's going to be a Very Scrambly Christmas. At worst, a lot of things will get missed — including presents, because in some kind of modern-day Gift of the Magi, Patrick and I got each other the exact same thing.

But most of all, I'm just really, really sad right now, despite all the things I have to be grateful for.



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