This weekend I got so much done; in addition to all my usual things, I also made sugar cookie dough, gingerbread dough, gingersnaps, banana muffins, and squares. I cleaned the house and we put up the Christmas tree and decorations – no, it’s not too early! – and I was about to finish up addressing my cards when I suddenly started feeling very unwell. I was feeling so unwell that my husband commented on it. Are you okay? Because you don’t look okay. You look terrible.
I’d be insulted if I wasn’t so grateful that he noticed my plight. It turns out that I had suddenly come down with the virus that had the rest of the family down a week earlier: sore throat, tight chest, and fatigue.
Fatigue! Yesterday I felt like I was in a fog; I wandered around the house for five minutes trying to figure out what I needed to do. It turns out, I needed to put a load of laundry in, but the thought process to get there was so taxing I wasn’t sure I could make it. I actually napped, which I never do. Ninety minutes of napping, and then it took me several minutes to figure out how to use my vegetable peeler while I prepped dinner. I was, alarmingly, reminded of Still Alice. It’s just a cold, I’m not coming down with early onset Alzheimer’s…or am I? I thought this over and over until I forgot about it and stared blankly at the sink for a while.
Happily, I feel much better today. I shovelled the snow from the sidewalk and only felt a little bit like dying.
This whole weekend, while I was in festive production mode, I was listening to the Sirius Holly channel, that I mentioned previously. For the most part, it is delightful. I can easily hear multiple renditions of the same song in a three-hour time period, and I will sing along with all of them. I even enjoyed ROD STEWART singing My Favourite Things, which is one of the more bizarre sentences I have written. Me, rolling gingersnap dough in sugar: Brown paper packages tied up with string, these are…hey, this sounds like Rod Stewart. It IS Rod Stewart! That’s weird.
Until this weekend, I would have said that I enjoy all Christmas music immensely, with only one exception: Paul McCartney’s Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime. That song, to me, is the festive equivalent of Might As Well Go For A Soda. I start to twitch like someone is scratching their nails down a chalkboard. Does anyone actually have chalkboards anymore? You know what I mean.
Anyway, I had always thought that was the worst ever Christmas song. I have a very high tolerance – nay, adoration – of cheesy Christmas songs such as Barry Manilow’s White Christmas or Neil Diamond’s Little Drummer Boy. But once that “Simply having…OH GOD MAKE IT STOP” gets in my head, I feel like I need some kind of medication/ alcohol to remedy the situation. However, from listening to Sirius Holly, I have discovered something even worse.
It’s called Christmas Wrapping.
It is the most tuneless song ever with the most insipid lyrics – and this is coming from someone who goes NUTS to hear Last Christmas by Wham! so I know a little something about insipid holiday lyrics – and it is six and a half minutes long. It also is played on Sirius Holly FREQUENTLY.
My weekend with Christmas Wrapping:
Me, the first time I hear it: Is this song still playing? Wow, it’s really long.
Me, the second time I hear it: Oh god, it’s that song again. What the hell is this song?
Me, the third time I hear it: What the hell? Why are they playing this again?
Me, the fourth time I hear it: THAT IS IT. I AM WRITING AN ANGRY LETTER TO SIRIUS. RIGHT AFTER I FINISH THIS GINGERBREAD.
Me, the fifth time I hear it: I’m losing the will to live.
Me, the sixth time I hear it: *changes channel*
So I’m a little slow. Clearly, I should have gone with step six in the first place. But then I might have missed Bruce Springsteen’s Baby Please Come Home, and that would have been tragic.
I am unfamiliar with Christmas Wrapping, but I remain convinced that the worst Christmas song ever is “The Christmas Shoes”. If you’ve never heard it, consider yourself lucky. It really is dreadful.
I’m glad you recovered quickly.
I am still forwarding past all the Christmas music when my phone’s on shuffle. It’s too soon for me. But interestingly enough, I think my phone knows it’s almost Christmastime (some kind of algorithm perhaps?) because it keeps offering up Christmas music at a much higher rate than in, say, August. Yet I hold firm. Sorry, Johnny Mathis & company, you will have to wait three more days until Thanksgiving is over.
I hesitate to remind you that I’m actually okay with Might as well etc., but I feel I must if only because I can hasten to add that I DO in fact hate that Paul McCartney song. I only listen to my Christmas playlists, not Christmas stations, because I really love the Christmas music I love and I really REALLY hate the Christmas music I hate. I haven’t heard Christmas Wrapping, but I fully concur with hannah about The Christmas Shoes – gah, the treacly, mawkish sentimentality, it is to barf.
Glad you’re feeling better. I still feel like staying awake for eight hours is a Herculean task, but hopefully pumping some ferrous sulfate into my poor depleted bloodstream will help.
Allow me to add my voice to the chorus of people who cannot abide that Paul McCartney Christmas song. So repetitive, so jingly, GAH. I realize, however, that I have low tolerance for a number of Christmas songs. I also can’t take Bruce Springsteen’s Santa Clause is Coming to Town because he sounds constipated, Christmas Shoes is unforgivably awful, And So This is Christmas makes me hostile because John Lennon is a huge turd, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause makes me feel hostile for no discernible reason, etc etc. This makes me sound horribly grinch, but there are lots of Christmas songs I do like, they just get mixed on the radio with all the horrible songs. BAH.