It is December 14. 11 days until Christmas. To say I am "behind the eight ball" is to put a very mild spin on the situation.
And oddly enough, for the first time that I can remember, the pressure of running behind is really getting to me. Don't misunderstand - I run behind on a regular basis, and it OFTEN gets to me -- but being short on time at the holidays? Big deal!
But for some reason, it IS a big deal to me this year. I can feel the pressure in my chest. Ugh.
The tree is up, the lights are on, and about 1/3 of the ornaments are on the tree. The yard has been decorated since late November, thanks to Rob, and various decorations are showing themselves around the house. So I am not a complete putz. Nevertheless, I do feel quite putz-like.
All of that being said, I adore Christmas. The music, the movies, the houses lit up within an inch of their lives along neighborhood streets, the gift-hunting, the gift-giving, the food, the parties --- most specifically, the Christmas party Rob and I throw each year at our house. It is a source of angst and ridiculous amount of preparation squished into the 24 hours BEFORE the party, but it invariably turns out to be a grand ole time!
At any rate, the pressure of Christmas is currently mixed in with every other week phone calls with my siblings regarding my father's estate. And perhaps that is the source of the weight that is settling on my chest every damn day. It is an awful thing to discuss the distribution of the parts and parcels of a person's life. And it gets harder when we discover that out of the seven kids, more than one of us (of course) find particular parts and parcels to be equally important and therefore must find a way to decide who gets what.
Trust me, it is ridiculously unpleasant.
Now I must move forward in my holiday quest to figure what ELSE I have neglected to do/find/call/write or pay...