Thank gawd that's over!
WHEW! I mean, I love Christmas just as much as the next gingerbread-craving, present-squealing, tryptophan-induced comatose plum-pudding eater, but, man, I'm actually glad to be going back to work this morning.
Yesterday I felt awful. Down in the dumps, feeling sorry for myself awful. Why on earth, after having such a wonderful Christmas, would I feel this way?
According to Google, Christmas letdown is perfectly normal. Part of the "what goes up, must come down" theory. The build-up to the big day is overwhelming. Not just the massive amount of work, but the expectation that Christmas is going to be peaceful and loving and absolutely perfect. No day can possibly live up to that kind of PR and, as much as you try to quell any expectations of perfection, there's a built-in perfecto-meter in our societal-manipulated brains that tells us otherwise.
Besides, I had been running myself ragged. The last two weeks were a blur of shopping, cleaning, baking and wrapping. On top of that, Dave's Aunt Edna died after a long battle with cancer. Dave and I both got nasty colds. And we had to work. So by the time Christmas Day came around, we were both running on empty.
When everyone left Christmas night, I couldn't help but get into the bawling.
"What's wrong?" Dave asked.
"Nothing," I replied, blubbering.
"Didn't you have a great Christmas? I know I did," he said.
"Yes, Christmas was great," I agreed. And started bawling again in earnest.
I napped on the couch for a couple of hours, then went to bed early. I slept in until 10 a.m. (unheard of for me), then went back to bed after lunch and slept until 4 p.m. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to go to sleep at bedtime, but at 9 p.m. I went to bed and slept the whole night through.
This morning I feel almost human.
It's snowing outside, beautiful fat fluffy flakes. My coffee is fresh and delicious. I've got leftover sugar cookies for breakfast and a hot bath waiting for me as soon as I turn off the computer. Now that I'm not exhausted, I can look back at Christmas and see it for what it truly was – a wonderful day to treasure and remember, long after the gingerbread is gone.
I hope yours was just as sweet as mine.