Ahhh, Christmas. It’s over. It’s done. And the post-Christmas coma is upon us, the letdown after the rush.
We went away for a few days. I was amazed by the effort required to gather everything together in order to get away: the food, the presents, someone to feed the pets back home, etc.
It was a lovely time, without a doubt: being with our sons, sharing news, playing games together, watching movies, going for walks. It was relaxing and very enjoyable.
Then there was the pack-up and the drive back. The closer I got to home, the more day to day reality settled back upon me: watering the garden, helping one son to find another place to live, organizing food, stewing fruit which is ripening rapidly, blah, blah, blah.
On arriving home, it was the unpacking, four loads of washing (yes, just for a few days away), and, of course, more food to buy.
So off to the supermarket we go. I’m walking up and down aisles, throwing items into the trolley and thinking, “I’m over spending money, can’t I live on air for a few days and not see a shop or open my purse?”
The idea of getting up early on Boxing Day to catch the post-Christmas sales would be a head explosion for me. It is just an extension of the pre-Christmas orgy of consumption with an even more intense element of greed.
I think I just need a lie down.