At this late hour I sit in my girlfriend Cindy’s living room, unable to sleep. I’m surrounded by tacky Christmas decorations, and my entire body aches. I can still hear jingle bells ringing in my ear after having it blasted at me all day. I look around at all the decorations that cover the room, recalling every painful moment I had getting them up there. It’s snowing outside, and Cindy is sleeping like a log upstairs.
I spent the entire day helping my delightfully insane girlfriend decorate her house. In October. At this point I don’t think anyone can accuse me of being a Scrooge, because I’m pretty sure Santa Claus himself would flip a lid if he realized some idiot was decorating their house a full two months before Christmas.
When I arrived at Cindy’s house this morning, she told me with a smile that she had a great idea for how we could spend our day. As usual, Cindy failed to register how her perception of “great” is completely different from mine. So when she announced like a maniacal elf that we would be decorating her house for Christmas I let an audible groan slip from my mouth. I instantly registered her furrowed eye brow and fading smile. It’s a credit to my girlfriend that she can instantly make me feel terrible for something I said. So I apologized profusely, and agreed to stick around and help her out.
It started out with her saying she just wanted to get her lights up early, but it quickly escalated. “Since we have the boxes out, we might as well get the tree up”. Eventually, she was prancing around me putting up garlands of holly, while singing loudly along with the Christmas music she blared. She occasionally acknowledged my discontent by encouraging me to have more fun, and saying “this is what Christmas is all about”. I fought the urge to pull a Linus and tell her that this totally wasn’t what Christmas was about, but I held my tongue and tried to perk up while I hung up her dusty decorations around the house.
The whole time I thought about how I had been frequently disappointed by Christmas in the past, how family fights, stupid gifts and strained relationships had tainted my view on the holiday. And I wondered why Cindy would ask me to decorate her house, when she already knew all this. It made her boundless joy seem terribly ignorant. It was a quality I was starting to notice in Cindy that made me uncomfortable.
After starting at 10:00 AM, we finally finished the dreadful decorating by 11:00 PM. Cindy kissed me under the mistletoe- a short reprieve from the painful experience that day. I took a shower and got out to find Cindy already fast asleep. I tried to go to sleep for about an hour, but I couldn’t get my mind calmed down enough to do so.
So here I am dear reader, sharing with you once more my frustrations with this holiday. Can you honestly blame me?
That’s another reason why I hate Christmas.