Well, I give up.
Clearly, in the pre-holiday brouhaha my
daily near-daily weekdaily posting schedule just isn’t going to work out. I tried catching up on the weekends for a while, but it’s not easy writing two or three of these posts in one day. Spewing that much nonsense tends to chafe after a while.
It’s not surprising, really. I tend to shut down for a couple of weeks every year as late December looms. Call it the holiday blahs, if you like. A Christmas funk. The horror of the hoarfrost.
(No, I don’t actually know what ‘hoarfrost’ is. I always figured it was something that afflicts people in Eskimo cathouses.
And I imagine it’s very painful.)
At any rate, I end up spending most Decembers in autopilot mode. Surviving the holidays is a little like a trip to the doctor — I sit as quietly as possible, keep my mind occupied with other things, and hope no one asks me to bend over and say, ‘ahhhh‘.
(Don’t laugh. You’ve never met my Uncle Jerry.
That’s not a guy you want around if you drop your egg nog, if you know what I’m saying.)
“I tend to shut down for a couple of weeks every year as late December looms. Call it the holiday blahs, if you like. A Christmas funk. The horror of the hoarfrost.”
The point is, I’m calling a time out. Or at least acknowledging the pregnant between-post pauses of late, and chalking it up to a case of ’tis the season. I’m not saying I won’t post more nonsense before New Years; it’s just becoming clear that I won’t have the energy to bust my hump into a regular writing schedule before then.
And if you think that’s bad, you should see my email backlog. To everyone I haven’t responded to since, say, Halloween, I can only say: I’m sorry. I’ll reply soon. And, you know, happy Thanksgiving and holidays and such. I hope that rash of yours has cleared up.
I suppose this time of year is the season to do things we wouldn’t normally do. If it’s not neglecting to find time to write, it’s eating cookies and candies and rum-smothered fruitcakes. Or buying gifts for people we spent the past eleven months discouraging. Or sitting on fat bearded mens’ laps.
(I did mention my Uncle Jerry, right? That’s no candy cane in his pocket — but he is happy to see you.)
So with any luck, we’ll run into each other a few more times before Christmas. And with a little more luck, I’ll be back to a regular posting schedule before the end of the year. And with a lot of luck, maybe Uncle Jerry will stay home this year.
And if not, well… there’s always the fruitcake. Make mine a double.Permalink | 6 Comments