LIGHTBOX, BABY

Lightbox

smoooOOOoooosh

Ooooh the beauty, grandeur and joy of the holidays. 

How I did revel in the fairy lights and my beautiful tree and the Crazy Christmas Barf Yards throughout the lower Bay Area.  Some real treats, I gotta tell ya--

Tiny townhouse front patches filled to the last square centimetre with huge blow-ups all jostling for wiggle room. Epilepsy-inducing light displays of such discordance as to warrant an FAA investigation into air traffic interference for sure, cresting rooftops then cascading down gutters and walls to the ground below to create miasmic displays of weird character tableaux and Santa landing strips.  Cuz he sure as hell ain’t gonna make it down within twenty feet in any dimension of that chimney. It’s a major cause of traffic in neighborhoods and an absolute delight, among many others.

smOOOoooooooossssshh

OOoooooh Christmas music, especially at work.  I would have cheerfully played the christmas mp3 chip another two months than replace it with the regular chip again--6 versions of Let’s Go Fly a Kite and four versions of the Immigration Song and five versions of Rainbow Connection?  Mele Kalikimaka!  All I Want For Christmas Is You!

Not to mention the eight versions of God Only Knows What I’d Do Without You (most of them by completely inappropriate children’s choirs) and the 4 versions of Desperado (same).  Then there’s the heavy concentration of Carpenter’s lovin’, Jeebuz-lovin’, America-lovin’ and John Denver lovin’.  Oh, and some truly terrible renditions of just about everything including Road to Nowhere by some unattributed men’s choir who couldn’t carry these poor tunes in a coffin as a team of pall bearers.

smmm00oooooshhhhh......

So everything was going so beautifully.  And January was not looking so crowded and stressful as last year. Then...

Smoosh.

I woke up one day a couple of weeks ago and could not get out of bed.  I tried a little kindness.  I’ve been working hard, it’s been a long retail season, I can loaf in bed, it’s only...

11AM.

I went to bed at 10.30 the night before, ostensibly because I was just soooo tired, but really because I could not think of any reason to stay awake.  I had slept for twelve hours. The weight of Things to Be Done, yes, right there.  Glum Post-Holiday Gloomies, yup, present and accounted. Logical.  But not The Reason.  As the days went on, my brain shut down and my soul turned black.  Seeing people was painful, noise was painful, being touched was painful.  F*&king SAD. Sad, stupid, retarded, asinine brain lapse. So tired. 

In response, I am angry and resentful.  It’s not like losing a few days here and there to a cold or the flu.  It’s like having the entire meaning of my life surgically drained with a large-bore syringe jammed straight into my cerebral cortex.

So I have gone to doctors and friends and talked about it. How brilliant are friends???? I have purposefully socialised.  I have read new books and gone to movies.  The light box is out and shining as we speak.  GingerMan has ordered his new car which he has dreamed of and saved his pennies for ages to commute ecologically but for size means my car will now be parked in the driveway.  Which will open an area less-than-car-but-just-more-than-treadmill-size in the garage.  The car won’t arrive for a while, but I want to acquire the machine soon, just to get moving.  I have never found the Exercise Endorphin Promised Land of which others speak, but walking all over Edinburgh and London for a month last summer left me feeling really really good about myself, stronger and streamlined, so I just want to get on it.

I’ll try to get back to the fun New Year Fairy 2013 Looking Forward blog next week.  I have the last of the 2012 photos of good times, and a heartwarming story about a chocolate cake that learned to hate me, but tasted brilliant anyway, leading to the Fairy 2013 Slogan.  So hang tight, friends, see you on the light side.

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