Christmas Is A Rabid Shopper

I find (and this might just be my cynical side talking...) that Christmas can really bring out the worst in people.  The the vicious tongue lashings to a sales clerk just trying to satisfy the hoard, the squinty-eyed venerable that hasn't driven in 364 days, but just has to get that last gift for little Sally, the rabid circling and defense of a particularly mouth watering sales rack.  That stress of commercialized Christmas spirit (On sale NOW!) just seems to permeate the hearts and minds of what starts out as a giving spirit, and twists it into cruelty and rage.  It's the knotted muscle in my back, the discomfort from which shortens my fuse to an intolerable length, and then the beast comes out...

This is the part where you ask yourself, "Does this guy have anything but a cynical side?"

I was walking home from work the other night, eying up the bumper-to-bumper traffic lined up in each direction (take the horrifyingly incomprehensible Dublin traffic system and just add Christmas) and I realized...

I'm not driving!

I have no car!  No white knuckled drives to the mall, or grating slags up the freeway to Fry's!  I also have very limited exposure (being thousands of miles away) to the pressures and stresses of the big, fat red-rolled, white beard pushing loads of stuff that no one wants, but will fit perfectly on my credit card.

I am divorced from Christmas!  I am the severed head of Christmas Spirit!

And then I realized...I also am thousands of miles away from all the family and friends that would normally make these stresses (almost) bearable...

Yes, this is the part where sentimentality ruins what was shaping up to be a perfectly brutal rant on all that is bad in the world.  

When I was a kid I was more than happy to reap the benefits that all that commercial spangle-wrapped goodness could offer.  I was like a race horse scrapping at the gate just before presents were opened.  These days I find that the most important part of any holiday is getting together with family, enjoying a wonderful meal, and then slipping into the food coma that is sure to follow.

Just know that we are missing all of our friends and family and we are thinking about you today as we sit around in our pajamas and watch movies, play games, and eating food.  It's just us today...

Merry Christmas!

P.S. Anyone that didn't receive a gift from me (and that is pretty much everyone), you have my permission to go buy yourself something.  Something that will bring you a little bit of joy, something you can afford, and purchased at your leisure at a time when you don't have to worry about a frothing, middle aged, red and green plaid blouse wearing, shut-in house wife clubbing you over the head with a giant plastic candy cane because you were eyeballing that 60% set of his and hers reindeer slippers...

Merry Christmas again, just for good measure!