enjoy the now.

Suck it, Best Buy.

Today is October 29th (Oh, I’m up late again… it’s the 30th). It is October. We haven’t even reached Halloween yet. Do you seriously think I want to see your Christmas ads on television already? Does this really bring in more business? Because from my cozy seat on the sofa, I am not inspired to shop. I’m just fucking irritated. Every person I know hates to be bombarded with Christmas before Halloween. Or before Thanksgiving.

enjoy the now.

I feel like I should put on a granny sweater and sit in a hideously upholstered armchair because I’m going to say it (à la Seth Meyers)

Back in my day…

… the first conversation about Christmas happened after Thanksgiving dinner when we drew names for the extended family gift exchange. Hell, most years I did not purchase a single gift until about a week before Christmas. And that was okay because every fucking person on the planet wasn’t out shopping constantly from Black Friday to Christmas Eve. You could even park your car in a reasonable spot without the need to walk 2+ miles to reach the damn store entrance. But this is no more. Now, shopping on the weekends is a nightmare from late-November to early-January. God forbid I need to stop at Target for toilet paper.

It’s only October. What’s the rush? Slow the fuck down! Can we focus? It’s Halloween. Have some fun. Then it’s Thanksgiving. Have some turkey. And then… it’s Christmas. Make it about heart not wallet.

I am not a religious person (despite the Italian Catholic father and Ukrainian Catholic mother). But damn, it feels like all meaning and hope and love and joy and celebration has been sucked out of Christmas by rampant consumerism and greed and misguided priorities. I miss relaxing on the sofa wrapped in a soft warm blanket sipping cinnamon ‘Christmas-y’ coffee or hot cider while spending time talking and laughing with my family. Not worrying about how much shopping I’ve yet to do.

I think this year I should spend the holidays like it’s 1999. Wooo!

About what sandra thinks

Sandra is a writer, blogger, poet, artist, emotional disaster. She thinks far too much and sleeps far too little. Sandra lives in the Northeastern U.S. but dreams of an oceanfront home in Hawaii where she could learn to surf. She loves books, brutal honesty, coffee, and the color black. She hates insincerity, beer, whipped cream, and facebook. And she is uncomfortable talking about herself in the third person.
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