An attempt was made

You guys, I am trying. I wore the most sparkly, least flattering Christmas sweater ever to be gifted, and it has not turned the library bathroom into a space of wonder and magic for me. Working on Christmas Eve is balls.

OMG SPERKLES

There are classic movies to be watching, beefs to be roasting, pies to be baking, rums to be buttering, and here my sour grinchy ass is stuck on a chair by the library door. When I am not taking my break in the toilet.

"sassy tree skirt"

I haven't felt anything yet. Usually there is at least one cozy moment leading up to Christmas where I remember how it feels to be excited and believe in magic, but this whole year has been like treading water and the only thing I feel right now is sorrow that I'm not able to at least see my children enjoy it. This week they decorated slightly scorched gingerbread cookies with their dad, shopped with their grandma, facetimed with the mainland family, and today they're in charge of the pies while my mother makes the big meal. Christmas Eve is usually my day, I love cooking for my family and listening to warbly old music and drinking something too sweet. Just going to have to shove it all over and get really weird about Boxing Day, instead.

Wishing you all fleece couch blankets and overfrosted cookies and children in cute pajamas on this day.