Good God Gurdy, as Mom used to say. In less than forty-eight hours, my schedule for the next four days is crammed so full of stuff to do that I'm beginning to wonder if I'll actually have time to sleep. Ah....Christmas.
As I noted in my last post, I'm doing all my gift shopping in one go over the next two days or so. I am doing this not because I'm certifiably insane, or because I procrastinated. I have to do it because with the new job and all, I just haven't had time, or frankly, the money until just now. I've been making lists upon lists of the things I need to have done by Sunday afternoon, and my desk is beginning to look like Broadway after the Macy's parade.
I was only informed of my new job's office party yesterday--"An all-day extravaganza," as our receptionist described it to me. So I have to order up a veggie plate, because I don't have time to make it up myself, and I have to run downtown and pick up something for the Yankee Swap. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this time-honored New England tradition, it's kind of like your regular Secret Santa swap, but with a twist. What happens is, you draw names, that person goes up and gets a gift and unwraps it in front of everyone. Then the next person who goes, unwraps their gift and decides whether they like it or not. If they don't, they can swap it with anyone who has already opened their gift, and the preceding giftee can't refuse or argue about it. That happened to me last year. I opened a beautiful crystal vase for my gift, and don't you just know, the next person down the line didn't want her present, and promptly told me to hand the vase over. I, in turn, was the chagrined swappee of a really cheesy Sno Globe.
Anyway, so I have to find something for the Yankee Swap, and I have to go to the grocery and pick up some provisions and my veggie plate. Then I have to run out and do some actual Christmas shopping. And more of that tomorrow. Then back to the grocery store. Why? Because I need baking stuff.
If I could, I'd give gifts to everyone that I love and care about, but as of yet, I'm not rich enough to do that. Besides, if I did, I'd be shopping until past New Year's. But I want to give friends and colleagues something. So I bake.
I go out and get a bunch of those tins--you know, the kind that are used for fruitcakes. And I take an entire day and bake cookies, pastries, and confectionary until I've filled about fifteen to twenty tins with chocolate chip cookies, macaroons, fudge, wonder bars, and almond drops. It's a lot of effort, and takes time to do, but it's so gratifying. My house always smells so wonderful, and the look on people's faces when they lift the lid off that tin is worth every minute I spend mixing, whipping, and baking.
So tomorrow, in addition to Christmas shopping, I need to take the list labeled "Cookie Tins" and get all the ingredients for three dozen of four kinds of cookie. The checkout girl is going to think I'm some kind of sugar junkie, but whatever. I can think of worse things to be labeled. Then Saturday and Sunday, I'll be making like a Keebler Elf. Hee!
What else? Oh, yeah, wrap presents Sunday afternoon and go to Sis' house for dinner. Then back to her house again Christmas morning to do the deal with the kids. Then (I know, are you tired yet?) it's back to my house to get ready for a Christmas party I'm hosting for those friends of mine who don't have plans or family around and just want to hang out.
Sometime in all this, I gotta clean my house so that my Christmas party guests don't think I'm a total sloth--and I promised to go out with some friends during the weekend, too. By next Tuesday, I'm pretty sure I'll be comatose, but hey, at least I'll have had a good time.
More later. Gotta run out and buy the Yankee Swap thing. I'm thinking a Sno Globe....
4 comments:
Yankee Swaps are evil, man. One year, I ended up with some Pokemon thing. Seriously. I don't even know what it was doing there.
Okay, that's just not right. What the hell was a Pokemon doing at what I presume was an adult's party?!
Irish
I don't know. It wasn't even like a high-geek concentration place.
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