There are many things I enjoy about being single. For instance, I can sit on my couch in my underwear, watch a "Saved By The Bell" marathon and eat frosting from a can and no one is going to walk in and say "What are you wearing/watching/eating??" I can also let the housework go without offending anyone but myself. There are perks....I am comfortable enough with my singleton-ness to admit that.
But then there are times when having a member of the male persuasion might be just a tad nice. Like when I'm decorating for Christmas. I am not altogether fond of the decorating process. It is often frustrating and exhausting. I so enjoy the end result and then want to leave lights, trees, garland and wreaths up all year. But the "joy" of getting all that crap up leaves lots to be desired. I almost didn't decorate this year because my frustration level hit an all-time high two weekends ago. Let's just say there was blood and tears shed by the truckloads. Ho, ho, ho.
I did finally give in a little and put my tree up tonight. There are lights on it....but that's as far as I've gotten. I am going to allow myself to say "enough" when I feel I've hit my limit (not every surface of my entire house has to look like Christmas threw up on it). This may mean that stuff I would love to see doesn't get done (can we talk about my light obsession? cause I could seriously send my electric bill into five figures if I had the chance). It would just be nice if the entire burden wasn't all on me...share the love, so to speak!
Then there's that whole "sharing time with the one I love during the holidays" thing....but since I have accepted that my Mr. Right existing is less likely than St. Nick himself, we'll just skip that whole song and dance...
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