I came in early this morning to write my weekly column. Usually, I write a good portion of it Wednesday afternoon to avoid adding any more pressure to already anxiety-inducing deadline routine. I had every intention of getting a head start on the holiday-themed piece I’d be penning for today. But yesterday, I just couldn’t gear myself up for it.
The problem is, I’ve been having a hard time getting into the holiday spirit. For someone who delights in the joy and cheer of the holidays as much as me, that’s a hard thing to admit.
Thinking perhaps the problem was a poorly decorated workspace – and we can’t have that, can we! – I made use of some of my pre-dawn time in the office to take down my outdated fall decor and replace it with something decidedly more festive. As a result, my corner of the newsroom is now resplendent in gold-edged red ribbon (which I’m proud to say is ill-gotten gain from a ‘Punching the Clock’ I did at the L.A. Najarian Ribbon Mill in my early days as an ES staffer).
The piece de resistance, though, is my Christmas clothesline – a string of elf-like garments (from knickers to outerwear) hanging by miniature wooden clothespins from a green cord. My mother gave it to me a couple of years ago, and it never fails to make me giggle with yule-time glee.
I know my coworkers appreciate it, too. Even if Jeff’s first comment when he came in this morning, seeing it strung festively in my cubicle once more, was that somewhere, a naked elf was running around.
Already, I can feel the warmth of the holiday season seeping into my bones and I can almost imagine the scent of hot cocoa and candy canes floating in the newsroom air.
Oh wait, maybe that’s just the coffee I’m currently sipping from an appropriately-themed vessel. I forgot I flavored it with peppermint mocha creamer I pilfered from Sports Editor Pat Newell’s private stash. (Ooops. Did I just admit that? Sorry, Pat. I promise I’ll replenish your supply.)
It’s a relief really, to feel this old familiar holiday spirit settle back into me. I was starting to get a little worried. It’s not that I’ve been completely devoid of Christmasy inspiration.
I felt my first flicker of excitement for the Christmas season on Saturday during the Parade of Lights. My coworkers and I really worked our tails off putting together this year’s Delivering Christmas float. In fact, we were still putting on the finishing touches as we turned onto Broad Street, but all the effort we put in was worth it when I saw the unbridled candy-cane coated joy on the faces of the small children in the crowd gathered at the curb.
As we made our way down the parade route, I smiled and waved with the best of them, filled with that holiday glow.
It was over all too soon, though. And by the time we were done disassembling our creation, that glow had been all but extinguished.
On Sunday, I made a half-hearted attempt to write out Christmas cards, but could barely muster enough Yuletide spirit to tackle the first ten names on the list. The stack of blank cards has been taunting me ever since.
