Epic bummer on the home front: I can't go back to Canada to be with my family for Christmas. It is the tale of a passport that UPS "misplaced" for 21 days, that a loyal blog friend then located and had delivered, followed by line upon line upon....well let's just say the passport isn't here yet and airline tickets are at a minimum of $1500. All this sent me into a bit of a tear-filled spiral this weekend. Okay and last week. Christmas is the one time of year where you can have guilt-free days off from work because everyone else is doing nil with their friends and family too. I want my mom's cookies! *whine*
Looks like it'll be a concrete jungle-filled Christmas this year.
It's pretty tempting to just get into a nap-induced fetal and remain there until January 2nd. And it might happen anyway, but it would be nice to get some traditions of my own going. I'll be honest: one thing I always do at this time of year is buy and religiously wear Abercrombie & Fitch sweatpants. Go ahead. Laugh. Laugh all you want, but know this: the sweats they push out at the holidays are unparalleled. Soft, smushy fabric that's like velvet on the skin. Sized to fit the adults of the world vs. the 12 year old skinny girls they cater to the remainder of the year. I lived in mine all weekend and given the need for comfort at this traumatic time *drama queen in the house* am hoping Santa hears my cry and drops a couple more pairs under the DECORATED (victory!) tree.
Santa? Santa you out there? More smelly A&F sweats please. This is a red alert.
Is it wrong to want to spend Christmas day lying around in one's A&F sweats munching sugar cookies, watching Elf, and dozing in and out of a food-induced coma? We think not.