Seems like just another day to me.
Christmas, it seems, has lost it's luster.
I remember when I was a kid, spending Christmas Eve in my grandmother's living room. All the family huddled on the spacious, L-shaped couch making trips back and forth to the Christmas tree in the window overlooking B street. Music playing, from somewhere. My dad, with his mustache that's he's had longer than I've been alive, sat in a chair, knees crossed, enjoying the warm feeling of family.
The anticipation built up for weeks. The sun seemed brighter and the clouds closer. The wind always seemed sharp, but never cold, although it was always freezing outside. The days blended into one. Tuesday's felt like saturdays. Family, from far away places, arrived in stagnated groups bearing gifts from exotic places.
We gathered in the early evenings and ate our favorite foods. We had kitchen counters full of homemade food and cold pops were unlimited-a blessing if you're a kid. Games were played, music was sung, and smiles were bountiful. It was a month that always went too quick and saddened you when it was over.
Today, it's a little different.
The days still blend into one another, but everyday feels like a monday. It's still chilly outside, but the wind is cold, and cuts right through you. Family still travels from exotic places, but it's to another state-where the rest of your family awaits. Games are still played and homemade food is still prepared, all of which are heard about second-hand, or while on speakerphone to the family while driving to work.
Christmas Eve comes and go. Santa makes his rounds and puts you on the "essential personnel" list, meaning he swings by later, whenever the family can get together, whenever everyone is not working.
Christmas becomes scheduled. How about the thursday after? Or the friday before? When do you work? When do you?
Now, I'm probably just bummed because I have only had 1 Christmas off in the last 10 years, have worked nearly every birthday, and always work extended hours on New Year's Eve. But, it's something I miss. Why can't I be the guy sitting in that chair, listening to music, and watching the world, and those ambulances, go by the front window? Why can't I be the guy wearing the funny hat with a kazoo in my mouth shouting at the night's sky as another years passes? Instead of wrestling intoxicated individuals in the back of an ambulance as the New Year sneaks in, unnoticed by me.
They all seem like every other day, now. This job skews your outlook on life, stains your soul, and even worse-normalizes the majority of special days into mundane mondays.
Next year, it'll be different. Next year, I'm celebrating Christmas ON Christmas with people that I love, in a place that I want to be.
I remember when I was a kid, spending Christmas Eve in my grandmother's living room. All the family huddled on the spacious, L-shaped couch making trips back and forth to the Christmas tree in the window overlooking B street. Music playing, from somewhere. My dad, with his mustache that's he's had longer than I've been alive, sat in a chair, knees crossed, enjoying the warm feeling of family.
The anticipation built up for weeks. The sun seemed brighter and the clouds closer. The wind always seemed sharp, but never cold, although it was always freezing outside. The days blended into one. Tuesday's felt like saturdays. Family, from far away places, arrived in stagnated groups bearing gifts from exotic places.
We gathered in the early evenings and ate our favorite foods. We had kitchen counters full of homemade food and cold pops were unlimited-a blessing if you're a kid. Games were played, music was sung, and smiles were bountiful. It was a month that always went too quick and saddened you when it was over.
Today, it's a little different.
The days still blend into one another, but everyday feels like a monday. It's still chilly outside, but the wind is cold, and cuts right through you. Family still travels from exotic places, but it's to another state-where the rest of your family awaits. Games are still played and homemade food is still prepared, all of which are heard about second-hand, or while on speakerphone to the family while driving to work.
Christmas Eve comes and go. Santa makes his rounds and puts you on the "essential personnel" list, meaning he swings by later, whenever the family can get together, whenever everyone is not working.
Christmas becomes scheduled. How about the thursday after? Or the friday before? When do you work? When do you?
Now, I'm probably just bummed because I have only had 1 Christmas off in the last 10 years, have worked nearly every birthday, and always work extended hours on New Year's Eve. But, it's something I miss. Why can't I be the guy sitting in that chair, listening to music, and watching the world, and those ambulances, go by the front window? Why can't I be the guy wearing the funny hat with a kazoo in my mouth shouting at the night's sky as another years passes? Instead of wrestling intoxicated individuals in the back of an ambulance as the New Year sneaks in, unnoticed by me.
They all seem like every other day, now. This job skews your outlook on life, stains your soul, and even worse-normalizes the majority of special days into mundane mondays.
Next year, it'll be different. Next year, I'm celebrating Christmas ON Christmas with people that I love, in a place that I want to be.
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