If I went by the commercials and advertisements that cover every inch of available space as soon as Thanksgiving is over, I’d think that the last month of the year was filled with nothing but magical snowflakes stuffed with money and Xanax. The holiday season is supposed to be all about taking time to be with your family and chilling out. If that’s true, we should all stop working immediately and run home, put fluffy socks on, and sit in front of a fire with a hot toddy. What happened to that whole idea, I’d like to ask – because that’s never how my holiday actually plays out. Where the fuck is that dream right now?
Oh, right. It doesn’t exist.
The holiday season is the most stressful time out of the entire godforsaken year. Not only are we dealing with ass chap from the freezing weather, but we’re supposed to drop more money than we’ve spent all year on one single day. Then, on top of buying gifts, you have to travel home. That means either an expensive plane ticket or hours of driving through fog, rain, or snow to whichever divorced parent you’re visiting first this year. If you’re a millennial with a dog, myself included, you’re probably trucking them home with you. My dog is high-anxiety (of course) and will need to be drugged out of his mind to endure the hours in a car necessary to get him to a place that he loves without him dying of asphyxiation on the way there, which is a great metaphor for my life in general. The trip home also means maxing out whatever vacation time you have left, ensuring the new year is filled with desperation you don’t get the flu that your youngest cousin was definitely incubating.
Speak of the devil: Let’s talk about our family members.
Christmas is supposed to be spent with your loved ones. Like, the people you actually love. Instead, what inevitably ends up happening is that the weird aunt you haven’t seen since you were four shows up and you have to be polite and chat with her. Basically, those weird ass relatives who like to show up for free food always pop their damn heads out around the holidays, and you’re forced to act not only as though you have a fucking clue who they are, but also that you care about them in general. So instead of getting to hang out with your parents, siblings, or some other relative who actually loves you, you get to spend most of Christmas day listening to Aunt Bernice tell you about how much she misses the crack pipe.
All I really want during the holidays are a few genuine, relaxed days with the people that I love. I enjoy our traditions – the decorations, the food, and the lights on the tree. I really do. But I have no money, no vacation time, and very little patience for relatives I’ve met once that I’m supposed to care about solely because we share a tiny amount of genetic material.
Everyone talks about the peaceful feeling of Christmas, and this year, I’d like to actually capitalize on the “peace” part, and chill the fuck out. Time is the one thing you can’t put a price tag on. Let me do a puzzle with my mom for three hours. Have my sister’s puppy fall asleep on my lap on the couch. Drink a beer with my dad. Have Santa hat sex with my fiancee. That’s my Christmas list. .
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