Who doesn't love hummingbirds?

 They are so tiny and cute!

The Lost Art of Sending Christmas Cards

When I was a child during Christmas time the wall in our living room was covered with dozens of Christmas cards. As kids we always knew Christmas was just around the corner when that first card came in the mail. Usually they started arriving shortly after Thanksgiving and by the end of December, my mother had quite a collection. They were from relatives, neighbors, friends, and co-workers of my parents. Even from the mailman and newspaper boy!

I moved into my own apartment when I was twenty-two years old. Every year I bought a load of Christmas cards and sent them to just about everyone I knew. I never sent the same design two years in a row, so I always had several boxes on hand. I’d hit up the after Christmas sales and buy more boxes for the following year. Christmas cards were everywhere. I also had one of those cloth Christmas trees tacked to the back of my front door. It filled quickly with big cards, little cards, cards covered in glitter (that usually got all over the floor when I opened the envelope), pop-up cards, and even a few of those photo cards of families wearing matching snowmen sweaters.

Fast forward to 2011. We are less than a week away from Christmas and I have only one card sitting on my TV stand. It is from my parents. Up until about three years ago I continued to send out dozens of Christmas cards. However, it reached a point when I would send out a handful of cards and I would get maybe one or two in return. It’s not that I send cards to get cards, but it’s nice to see that red or green envelope sticking out of the mailbox. I always got that little twinge in my tummy before I turned the envelope over. Who is it from? It was a nice surprise, because it meant someone was thinking about me and acknowledging my efforts to send them a card, but now that gesture goes unnoticed.

Rarely does anyone make the time and effort to hand-write a bunch of cards, address the envelopes, stick on a stamp, and take them to the post office. Now, I get the ubiquitous “Merry Christmas” message on my Facebook page or an e-card in my email that’s been forwarded to a hundred people. Sending Christmas cards has become a lost art. And with that Christmas has become incredibly impersonal.

I wasn’t planning on sending out any Christmas cards this year, but then I thought, “why not?” I still have plenty of cards in my desk drawer. Maybe if someone sees that little colored envelope in their mail it might just put a smile on their face. I know I’ll be smiling as I drop all those envelopes into the mailbox and I’ll feel better knowing I made the effort to make Christmas personal again.

Inside My F'd-Up Head

I have had a lot on my mind over the past several months. My head feels like a big gnarled mass of wires, kind of like the bag I keep all my electronics in. When I pull out my iPod charger, the cords to my laptop, cell phone, camera and everything else come out as one big knot. Then I have to sit there and carefully unwind everything just to get to the one I need and I don’t have the patience for that.

It’s hard to focus on one thought, because it leads to the next and on it goes. My gnarled knot of thoughts becomes bigger and bigger because I cannot stop thinking. I often have insomnia, because I will wake up in the middle of the night and start thinking. And it’s not about important things, but stupid shit like having conversations in my head that have never taken place nor ever will or thinking about what to make for Christmas dinner, which is over a month away! It’s useless to lie awake at 2am thinking, but it’s what I do.

My work is what I think about the most. It is literally always on my mind, because I hate my job. With all honestly I can use that word: Hate. It’s a strong word, but accurately describes my feelings. That thought leads me into thoughts of retirement. I’ve spent 20+ years in a career that was never really supposed to be a career in the first place. I simply needed a job that would pay my rent. Now I feel trapped.

This job has become both my comfort zone and my nemesis. I dream of a job that I’m happy to go to, one that doesn’t give me migraines or an upset stomach, one that doesn’t cause sleepless nights or dreams of violence and anger – It’s not all unicorns and rainbows inside my head. I can’t tell you how many people I have killed in my dreams. I want a job that when I wake to my alarm, my first word isn’t “fuck.”

If I quit, sacrifices will have to be made and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that. The economy sucks right now; more people are being laid-off than are able to find jobs. I worry that my husband and I won’t be able to maintain the standard of living we are used to. We’re not materialistic by any means, but it is nice to have money in our pockets. I think about all the ‘what ifs.’

What if with my next job I still have to work night shift, weekends and holidays? That's one of the reasons why I hate my current job. What if I can't find another job? How will I pay the mortgage? There are too many unknown variables, which, you guessed it, leads to more thinking and worry. I don't know whether to continue working for a paycheck and be unhappy (for at least another seven years) or leave, risk not having money, but retain my sanity and get myself healthy again. I'm very scared.

Another stressor that occasionally rears its ugly head, especially around the holidays, is family. Four years ago I had a falling out with my older brother. A long story short, he wanted me to invite certain members of his wife's family to my wedding and I (along with my husband) did not want to. He said some very hurtful things and in the end he disowned my parents and me. He's since reconnected with my parents, but has yet to apologize to either them or me.

I especially get angry when we start planning our holiday get-togethers. My parents want to spend time with both of us, but my brother refuses. I am open to the idea of us being together - although I might have a word or two to say to him - to give my parents the pleasure of celebrating Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family, but him and his wife decline all invitations that include me. And he calls me selfish? I’m not my brother’s keeper, but our situation is just another added strand to my ever-growing knot of thoughts.

I think too much about things that don't need thinking about. I get that from my mother. To ease my mind, I try to think of the Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Neibuhr…

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

However, that leads me into more thinking, because it starts off with “God” and I don’t especially believe in God, but that’s a topic for another blog at another time….

My thinking is making me crazy. I firmly believe that if I don’t start controlling my thinking now I’ll wind up in the loony bin sooner or later. For me, thinking is a bad habit, because I can’t stop my brain for even a second. It’s overwhelming and at times all I can do is cry, but then my husband gives me a hug and tells me it’s going to be all right. And in that brief moment with his arms wrapped around me, I am finally quiet and can concentrate on what’s really important in my life.

Vacation!

I haven't done much writing on this blog, although I do have some stuff in the works.  I have, however, a travel blog about me and my husbands adventures through life together.  We recently went camping on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. 

You can read about our trip on our travel blog: Travels With Rae and Robert...