Whoever thought me moving in November was a good idea, wasn’t very smart. I have yet to recover from that experience, and now Christmas is here! I’m so unprepared it’s not funny.
- Put up Christmas lights.
- Write a Christmas letter. The first two years I lived on my own, I wrote Christmas letters that were fun and got a lot of compliments. It was sort of a year on a page kind of thing. I still haven’t done one. At this rate, I’m thinking about doing a Christmas in July sendout.
- Send cards.
- Re-think my wrapping. My mother recently broke her wrist and had surgery on it this week. I only realized Tuesday that…she’s not going to be able to tear wraping paper. Looks like this is a bag year!
- Buy a new tree. My pre-lit tree, has burned out. *sigh* I bought a few strands of LED lights and, dear lord, my eyes! I can’t look at the tree with lights on, but this is the first one I’ve had where I almost think it looks better without lights than with them on. I’ll save the tree buying for next year.
- Buy more presents. I’ve managed to buy plenty for my mom, who is moderatly difficult to buy for. My biggest challenge is getting more dad appropriate things. He’s frustrating because he always buys for himself! Oh, and I should probably get my grandmother’s boyfriend something. I did just meet him…
- Decide where I’m sleeping on Christmas Eve. The family get together is north of me about an hour, and my parent’s live about an hour south of me. My apartment is nicely in the middle. It’s easy to crash there and go to the rent’s place first thing in the morning, but with my mom’s bum arm, I might need to be around more.
- Figure out when or if my sibling is coming. As a half sibling, my sister doesn’t come up for all of the holidays or events, but I rarely know if she’s coming. If she is, I need to buy presents.
- Put together a care package. One of my uncles will be in the hospital over Christmas and I want to send him something since I won’t be able to visit him.
- Figure out what I’m wearing. There’s an unspoken rule that dad doesn’t see my tattoos. This makes dressing for the occasion a laborous process.
- Finish this list…..
