CHRISTMAS SURVIVAL GAME

Getting through Christmas is often like making it through a survival game.

First, the gift shopping has to be done.
Wrapping marathons soon follow.
Then, the grocery shopping has to be done.
Massive amounts of baking and cooking ensue.
Travel plans have to be made.
Schedules have to be coordinated.
Work has to be endured.
Illnesses have to be warded off.
Guests and family need to be made comfortable.
Exhaustion must be conquered and ignored.

I realize during Christmas Eve and Christmas day, while warding off a migraine, that I forgot to replenish my supplies of acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and good old fashioned aspirin.  I cradle the last extra-strength, rapid-release Tylenol like it's the Ebola virus in a fragile jar -- either's accidental destruction will lead to my immediate and painful death.

It has been a long time since I felt under-the-weather during the holiday season, but this is what happens when I run myself into the ground.  And speaking of under the weather, it certainly does not help that it has been almost 70 degrees for two days (Christmas Eve and day).  Between hot flashes, a hot house, and an occasional hot forehead, I'm ready to turn on all the fans and run around in a bathing (or birthday) suit.

My friend in Colorado is snowed in for Christmas, battened down by a blizzard that drops about a foot of snow on her town overnight and continues to rage on Christmas day.  Lucky girl: She gets a white Christmas and a reason to enjoy her bed a little longer.  I pretend to love my bed  by never changing out of my flannel pajama pants all day long, which is a fashion statement that also prevents me from going to the pharmacy for more acetaminophen, ibuprofen, or aspirin.  I could actually go several places for Christmas evening -- my sister's house, my friend's house -- but all I want to do is curl up in a big comfy chair with a blanket and maybe my homemade fleece scarf.

And painkillers.  Why did I not restock my supply of painkillers?  Other than that and accidentally smashing a holiday wine glass in the sink after rinsing it out to use, it is a ridiculously smooth couple of days with friends, family, and all of my silly Christmas animated toys and a house full of oft-lit candles.  In a couple of hours, the survival of this year's Christmas Season will be official. 

Of course, this all means one thing and one thing only:  Time to start planning next year's holiday season.