The tree is up, decorated, and presents have been placed beneath it. Ninety-eight percent of shopping is done. The lights are up outside, the rest of the house is nearly decorated. My Christmas cards went out in the mail today, I have a good start on gifts for neighbors (shhh, I’m knitting little snowmen to give with cookies), I’m going to have time to sit back, and relax. But I won’t. Instead, I’ll worry about the tree dying, the arthritis I’m getting from knitting, the power bill, along with the things I worry about every day. I am just programmed to not physically or mentally be able to relax, and I HATE that.
Thanksgiving went by just fine. I presented a perfectly cooked, golden, juicy, turkey. A couple of other things could have gone better but the turkey was awesome. I felt like I’d done well. When I crawled into bed that night, I realized exactly how much tension I’d been carrying through the week, especially that day, and it was quite frankly a bit frightening. You know, maybe I should consider it ok to have a glass of wine once in a while. Who knows.
Currently the house is quiet, peaceful. Nobody else home making noise. I like these times. They seem so few and far between. I think I’ll try to enjoy.