A Christmas Dirge

It's that time of year again...Christmas.

I used to actually enjoy it. I would go to bed early and sleep well and then get up as soon (the moment!) I was sure Santa had finished overstuffing my stocking full of small toys and candy and other knickknacks.

A bit later there were the presents themselves, divided into tidy piles for each of our attendees. Up until the age of eighteen, this consisted of my grandparents from both sides (minus the grandpa on one who had died the year before I was born), my parents, and us two kids. Of course, the two kids got the largest piles. We would go round and round in a circle, each person reading a card saying who loved them and opening a present that proved their love. People were allowed to skip if their pile got too small and they wanted to stay in the game.

At the age of, I dunno, sixteen I woke up to find my stocking crammed full of...Clearisil? This is when Christmas stopped being funnish, per se. Apparently "Santa" had neglected taking care of this small task when the stores were open and had gone out in a late night pique to 7-11 to purchase whatever he could: the result Clearisil, Bic pens, a mini-stapler, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, etcetera, and probably the strangest Christmas meal ever laid out on a table, everything but the Slurpee and microwavable burrito. The year after that the stockings were abandoned in full and, at least for me, the holidays never seemed the same. It was like a small (but huge) part of my childhood had died.

Fast forward a few years and it's entirely dead. Santa's laid out in a fat casket in the backyard and you can hear the reindeer mewling their reindeer dirges well into the night. My mom died, and she was really the one who who into this shit anyway, so Christmas really just went with her. Two of the last three years, I've spent alone by myself just trying to sleep through the day, depression countering the joyous season with its blacklight charm.

Ah, but there's always New Years'. This year is finally going to be different. I'm going to get my shit together, because those 2015 resolutions are stickier than years past. I'm going to shed my hoarder's home, meet a cool chick, learn some new schtick, and by 2016 I'll be a new man, resolute to not need resolutions anymore. Ahem, sure.

Anyhoo, enjoy your seasons, everyone!