Since living in Boston, every year when this week arrives -- the week before I get on a plane to Minneapolis -- I love it and hate it.
I'm a last-minute Christmas person in every sense of the bad cliché, true to my nature for last-minute everything, and this week gives me the proverbial ulcer.
Ask my family. Christmas makes me a wreck. I have never not stayed up all night before the morning I fly out .... finishing afghans, doing laundry, making presents, hunting down cat-sitters, writing the annual letter ..... and then I'm usually addressing the envelopes for said letter (and still making presents) while on the plane. Cousin J once told me that it wouldn't be Christmas if she picked me up at the MSP airport and I didn't have rolls of wrapping paper sticking out of my carry-on.
This year is trending worse than most, since work has been crazy busy, the Santa Speedo event took up most of my last Saturday, and all my friends seem to be in similar last-minute social-planning mode. Believe me: I'm not complaining about parties. I love parties. I love the people that organize them. Yesterday I got 3 invitations that gave me someplace possibly else to go tonight (already got one planned!), Thursday and Friday. This is on top of an Advent commitment at church Wednesday night, an all-day-baking extravaganza on Saturday (part of my Grandma's Christmas present), and more church and parties already on Sunday.
But I fly out next Tuesday. I want to celebrate this season with my friends. In between now and then I could conceivably do all the above, and then I also need to work every day. Compile the Christmas letter. Buy presents. Wrap presents. Find the cat-sitter. Occasionally sleep. Etc.
It never changes.
Don't know where I'm going with this, other than to get it off my brain, where it had been since I woke up this morning at 5, too tired to get up but too wound-up to sleep. I'm certainly not alone in this embarrassment of riches that despite all intentions, causes more angst than joy.
But indeed, if having too much is my greatest concern, my life is a cakewalk.