I love Christmas time....I think we've established that...with the exception, of course, of putting up Christmas lights! I don't think there is a Christmas movie I haven't watched or a Folgers' commercial I haven't cried over. I totally fall for each sappy love story and laugh hysterically at the goofy humor associated with sitcom office holiday parties. However, I am then, faced with the very obvious, but always surprising fact these are fiction, not reality! While I am by no means complaining about my reality, there is definitely not a playwright waiting in the wings to put this up on the big screen.
We've all seen the television office Christmas parties where, inevitably someone ends up on the copier, making prints of their perfectly shaped butt to share with co-workers, while another not so secret office romance blossoms in the storage room. Well, picture the exact opposite of that, and you have the annual holiday lunch in my organization. I work for a state wide company so, in order for us all to share in the Christmas spirit together, my colleagues and I all drive 2 hours each way to have lunch in the trendy restaurant of the day.
For the most part, I really do like the people I work with but I can promise you there isn't one I'd want to give me a photocopied version of their butt (to be honest, who I would want that of is a VERY short list so maybe that isn't a fair description). Anyhow, picture 6 people of various ages and sizes in a cross between a mini-van and an SUV driving 120 miles for rubber chicken and you have my day. Adding to the excitement, of course, would be a quick description of our two most colorful characters. One of the women, who truly will be sainted in the after world for size of heart alone, definitely makes up for her lack of world knowledge by her sugary personality. After a 5 minute conversation with the waiter regarding whether or not the brandy sauce on her long awaited bread pudding would get her drunk ("I don't drink a drop, dearie") we then had to explain to her why the rest of us at the table almost spit out our wine when another colleague said she was vacationing on the island Wannagetlaid..."Oh, I don't think I know that island. Is it the best one?" Again, not exactly the starring character in an Alec Baldwin office skit. Add her partner in crime, who is the person everyone wonders if exists...the one who buys the light up Christmas sweater (not for the bad Christmas sweater party) but because she thinks it's cheery...and you understand why the normal ones in the car were ready to slit our wrists when we got home.
I, of course, didn't help my Christmas channel meets reality dilemma tonight by cozying up on the couch with my daughter, two sweater clad dogs and a cup of eggnog tea to watch every bad but you can't turn off Christmas movie we could find. My contentment with(or acceptance of) life on my own is definitely tested when I find myself falling under the spell of the mistletoe magic. The pull of a small town Christmas where the widowed sheriff is just waiting for a single mom with two beautiful children becomes so very strong...Oh wait, that was the plot of the movie I watched last...
Since I can't see myself giving up this incredibly insane addiction to the Hallmark channel any time during the next 20 days, I will just ask Santa to bring me either the man of my dreams, or a really good bottle of wine. I think I'll be fine either way.
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