I have yet to achieve a steady state of “merry” and am stuck instead in a cycle… moments of radical clarity and stretches of okay-ness punctuated by moments of truly un-fine. The way I’d imagine it feels to be attacked by zombies… you’re brushing your teeth like usual when suddenly four of the undead are bloodying your doorstep and busting through with a hatchet and you’re like: I WAS JUST BRUSHING MY TEETH.
Seeing old friends has been rejuvenating in all the right ways.
My dad has taken up cooking in his retired state, and so elaborate and butter-filled dishes grace our table each night.
My mom got us all snuggies (I’m lowercasing it!) of the highest caliber; essentially sleeping bags with head, arm and feet holes.
So. Things are ok.