I went out with wallet in hand on Saturday and I bought two movies (Elf and Edward Scissorhands) and a big, puffy (synthetic is good enough for me) duvet. I went out on Sunday and bought the Apartment Therapy book, as well as a CSS bible (if you will). And then I also went out today, post-naptime (if you really wanna stretch that much by calling it naptime).
All three of those shopping excursions did not make a celebratory me. And I really thought they would.
It seems like this year, the shelves are less stocked than usual, the cards less beautiful, the tinsel more garish. I cannot get into the spirit, already, and it’s killing me since usually by this time, I’m about done shopping and people are beating me with umbrellas to stop me from telling them what their present is.
This year it’s ‘do we get a tree? do we need one? where do we get it and do they deliver? I know I can afford it, but should I?’
This year it’s about minimalism, with an apartment that I want to smash walls from and completely redecorate. And I can’t do that, or paint, or put up wall paper, or afford all new everything, so.
This year, it’s like, ‘holy shit why can’t someone else plan this shit and do this shit and spend money on this shit and OMG what the hell am I going to get for her and what should she get for her dad and grandmother, or should she give nothing but maybe some artwork?’
It’s not knowing the proper way to negotiate it all, when you’ve set some standards in your head and you don’t know if those standards fit what you will actually be disappointed in – or worse, what she one day might be ruing.
That’s why tonight, we went to a bunch of places, maybe looking for a tree, or something that we could hang lights with in the shape of a tree, or even some flipping tree branches to make into a tree – at one point, I was considering a heavy clay vase, to maybe fashion into a receptacle for tree castoffs that I could entwine with lights and a few small ornaments.
Nothing. Really nothing. Nothing I want, nothing we need, nothing worth it. Nothing. Bah….no, I won’t say it.
“But, there’s no rush. It’s not even December yet.”
Yes, actually, there is. My mood is switching, already. Normally, it’s a little closer to, if not actually on my birthday (the 10th! Fellow Sags run around in a crazy circle!) and that is when the world reverses for me. Smiles are faint, sleep is coveted, insomnia drifts away for this person who only gets out of bed because mommy-guilt enforces it. I’m coming into the tough stretch of bipolardom, fast, and I’m trying to help Christmas beat it to the finish line. Tangent endeth.
Then we rolled into the dollar store and saw a tiny 3-footer with a little burlap bag around its bottom and fake cranberries glistening on its boughs. And that mofo was $12.99. And then, there were the anchoring clips for the lights, for $1.75. And then, what’s those? Silver and blue glistening snowflake window clings? Score.
Until we got home and realized the clings would be very clingy, since they’re actually stickers.
The point? Tomorrow, I will act as if my ass off. It will become an xmas world in this little space. Isobel will be enchanted and I will be enchanted by her enchantment.
Even if it frickin kills me.
