I feel the cloud descending. I should be making an apple pie right now and prepping to make an epic cream-of-mushroom soup with all fresh ingredients. To celebrate 8! How amazing. But I wanted to lie down and take a nap in the middle of Walmart this morning so you can imagine how much more appealing that idea is here on the couch. I went for an hour-long walk this morning, which was lovely in spite of the sewage-treatment-plant smell (which the dog is currently competing with and possibly winning, omg). And then after the walk it was errand time and I was starving and it was just sensory overload and shutdown. That place has officially graduated from the 2nd to the 8th circle of hell and will remain that way until January. Like I just want to pick out a box of tissues without 5 people crowded around picking out their tissues, or picking their noses or whatever. Ugh.
So Christmas will soon be upon us and I’m sure I’ll muster some enthusiasm in the coming weeks but at present it’s like can’t we slow it down a little. I’m not ready for all that. And the elf on the shelf idea makes me want to stab out my eyes. Twenty-four days of that mess! Ugh.
So one day at a time, which we’ll mark by food. Today, soup, salad and apple pie. Tomorrow, a black-bottom pumpkin pie for the day after that. With turkey and more! And then a bonfire on Friday night. And a reception on Sunday with like 500 cookies or something after Children’s Sabbath. But ohmygosh that seems impossibly far away and impossibly too soon all at once.
About that nap: yes/no? Pie? Oh, okay. Fine, sigh.