Post Christmas Clean-Up

Long story short: I can't stand most of my family.

This is why I spent yesterday in my pajamas, intermittently catching pieces of TBS' marathon of A Christmas Story and generally not thinking about the outside world - which is why I did't notice that my cell was going straight to voicemail because it wasnt charged and the home was going straight to voicemail because it's stupid like that. Damn digital phone lines - I'm having the worst luck with technology lately.

I think that the day after Christmas is a lot like the moments following masturbation. In many ways, they're both just something to get through. You have to do it, but it's more out of respect for tradition or to substitute for something else - like your birthday. Sure, the cleanup’s a little easier for one than the other, but you're often still left thinking, “I spent all this time on ________ and all I got was ________?” Both experiences should be more than that. But in the aftermath, all that usually remains is paper to be thrown away - be it toilet or wrapping.

Of course, my cynicism should, as always be taken with a grain of salt. On holidays, I'm an orphan, avoiding extended family like the plague and communicating only with my parents and sister to thank each other for our gifts. For me, Christmas Day always requires a delicate balance of denial, acceptance, and bargaining for me to get through.

And I know what some of you out there are thinking. The answer is: I don’t drink alone or at home if there isn’t a gathering of at least four people.

The moral of the story? Christmas isn't as good as your birthday and a wanking isn't as good as sex. Other than that, I got nothing.

J.

This post was sponsored by the Only 364 Days Left Committee.