birthdays holidays

Christmas, baby

The whole having-a-birthday-on-Christmas thing really isn’t that bad on the whole — really! — but the bit that I could truly do without is the mad dash I have to make every year to get ready for Christmas. I spend the two weeks before my birthday and the day of my birthday in this frantic state where I spend all my money and I spend all my time thinking of stuff to buy, stuff to make, then buying stuff, making stuff, wrapping stuff, transporting stuff, directing traffic and working longer hours to ensure smooth production on the holiday. It’s exhausting. And my actual birthday will be spent traveling to my parents’, cramming in as much family fun as possible in a few hours, and traveling back. Interstate 40 isn’t the most fun place to be on a regular day, you know, but I feel like I need to be there.

When you have a birthday on Christmas, you can’t just get your friends together to go out and toast your latest year on the planet. People’s time is reserved for family and nothing is open anyway. That’s the second worst part.

Other than those two things, it’s not so bad. Really.