Well, the festive season is well and truly upon us and I'm starting to have the same ambiguous feelings about it that I do each year.
Religious origins aside, I like the basic modern concept of Christmas: a time to relax and unwind with those you want to be with and forget your everyday worries for the briefest of moments. I enjoy the process of picking out gifts (though I do it early enough to avoid the hell of Xmas shopping in December) and the glimmer of kitschy decorations (not that I'd have them at home) ((though I have to confess to the guilty pleasure of wandering around town earlier this week in my lunchbreak with Carolina as she searched for Christmas chintz to deface, um decorate our workspace)) but for some reason, I always get depressed at this time of year.
Maybe it's because of the constant barrage of images of fun and cosiness, but I always end up feeling isolated and kind of fed up with the whole thing by the time the 25th eventually rolls out. Maybe this is why the season tends to be the suicide peak of the year: or maybe it's just the annual churning out of Morecambe & Wise, The Snowman, So Here It Is Merry Christmas and It'll Be Lonely This Christmas...
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3 comments:
Just ignore all the chintzy Christmas hysteria till the 25th, always works for me.
I dunno about suicide, walking round town at Christmas always makes me want to commit MURDER.
Walking arounf town at MOST times makes me want to commit murder (or justifiable homicide, I'd argue) : )
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