For the past week, I’ve been housesitting for a friend. For the most part, it’s been great. I’ve enjoyed my time alone. This is the first Christmas where I’ve waken up alone in a house that wasn’t mine.
It’s been a strange experience. But I have to say that I don’t relish the position of the rest of my family — running around, trying to “plan” as best they can, shopping for people they see approximately once a year.
We attempted to cram the entire family as well as some friends into our house. It wasn’t that hard to do, but the commotion of everything that was going on was a bit unsettling. I tried my best to restrict my conversations and activism to a minimun. I don’t know why, but I really just wanted to get everything over with. So after we opened presents and everything else supposedly associated with Christ’s birthday. Then I drove back to Charlotte’s and went about my business.
About the only cool thing about Christmas this year was that it actually snowed on Christmas for the first time in … well, years. Oh well. Guess I just wasn’t in the spirit this year.