Tuesday, December 07, 2004
A frightening realization
The other day when I got home from work, I was struck by a disturbing thought: Somehow, completely inadvertently, I have become Mr. Rogers. It's true! Every day I come home (usually from the gym) and take off my jacket, slipping on my trusty cardigan. Then I take off my shoes (although I usually manage to resist the urge to throw one of them into the air and catch it, looking inordinately pleased with myself) and put on my slippers. However, I do not sing a song about wanting to be your neighbor while doing this, so that's good. Nor do I immediately stage a puppet show afterward, so that's good, too. Perhaps there's hope for me yet.
Things that make me happy
My Christmas tree, for one. I have always loved Christmas trees. Apparently when I was little, my mom took me to Wal-Mart or some such store and was pushing me in the cart through the part of the Christmas section where they have all the different trees. According to legend, I turned to her in complete amazement and asked, "Is this wonderland?" (I know. I was such a darling child.)
Now that I'm all grown up and have a tree of my own, I am only slightly less awed by its beauty. There's just something about white Christmas lights that does it for me every time. I even plug the tree in when I first get up in the morning, and those of you who have seen me when I first get up in the morning know that this is no small task. In fact, I love my Christmas tree so much that I'm considering keeping it up all year round, much like the crazy psychiatrist in Running With Scissors.
Then again, it is taking up quite a considerable amount of space in my living room. And I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm a crazy psychiatrist or anything.
You know what else makes me happy? Getting mail, especially when it's a card from one of my former NaNoWriMo partners (Kate), congratulating me on sticking with it.
The other day when I got home from work, I was struck by a disturbing thought: Somehow, completely inadvertently, I have become Mr. Rogers. It's true! Every day I come home (usually from the gym) and take off my jacket, slipping on my trusty cardigan. Then I take off my shoes (although I usually manage to resist the urge to throw one of them into the air and catch it, looking inordinately pleased with myself) and put on my slippers. However, I do not sing a song about wanting to be your neighbor while doing this, so that's good. Nor do I immediately stage a puppet show afterward, so that's good, too. Perhaps there's hope for me yet.
Things that make me happy
My Christmas tree, for one. I have always loved Christmas trees. Apparently when I was little, my mom took me to Wal-Mart or some such store and was pushing me in the cart through the part of the Christmas section where they have all the different trees. According to legend, I turned to her in complete amazement and asked, "Is this wonderland?" (I know. I was such a darling child.)
Now that I'm all grown up and have a tree of my own, I am only slightly less awed by its beauty. There's just something about white Christmas lights that does it for me every time. I even plug the tree in when I first get up in the morning, and those of you who have seen me when I first get up in the morning know that this is no small task. In fact, I love my Christmas tree so much that I'm considering keeping it up all year round, much like the crazy psychiatrist in Running With Scissors.
Then again, it is taking up quite a considerable amount of space in my living room. And I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm a crazy psychiatrist or anything.
You know what else makes me happy? Getting mail, especially when it's a card from one of my former NaNoWriMo partners (Kate), congratulating me on sticking with it.
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