I finished my Christmas shopping on Black Friday this year, and it was far more enjoyable than the one time I went and stood outside a big box store for hours in the dark and cold, having to pee really bad. I realized then that two rolls of wrapping paper weren’t worth queuing up to buy, and the whole experience brought back negative memories of the dreaded Ames (St. Albans) checkout line. You know what I mean.
Seriously, I bought all of my presents online November 26th with a nice cup of limited-edition Mocha-Mint coffee in my hand and a cat on my lap. I didn’t change out of my flannels or worry about whether or not I had a bad case of bed-head. Which I most assuredly did.
I didn’t have to pay any shipping fees or sales tax (I heart you big time Amazon.com).
I’ve thoroughly embraced the shop-at-home philosophy but have some other holiday caveats, such as only purchasing items for other people that I wouldn’t mind keeping for myself, just in case we have a falling out before exchanging gifts.
I will never do something just because “it’s tradition” – like having a lighted angel on top of the tree. Which is too bad in a way, because the Christmases I remember the most (as a child) were the ones where a sparkling white fairy spontaneously combusted, leaving a skid mark on the ceiling. There were a couple of those because, you know, it was tradition.
If you’re on my list and live outside Vermont, you’re getting a swipe card. Shipping heavy or breakable gifts is not my forte; I will most certainly ruin your carpet with a leaky stain made up of maple syrup, cranberry wine, and cherry cordials.
If I don’t find a present for you before the end of November – you’re getting a gift certificate, probably from a place where I’d like to go shopping.
I don’t buy things in December for anyone but myself, because it doesn’t matter if my personal gifts to me arrive before Christmas Eve.
Heck, whenever a box arrives on the doorstep it’s a freakin’ birthday surprise! I never remember what I ordered because of all the purchasing I do for the business, so mysterious packages arrive every few days. Last time it was five cases of hairnets, which was as much of a letdown to open as unwrapping a sponge on Christmas morning – which happened for real.
It really takes a load off, to have avoided some major holiday stressors this year.
I didn’t have to deal with half-crazed, bleary-eyed shoppers trampling eachother, distracted drivers running red lights, or thugs casing the hatchback. Throwing a blanket over a flat-screen and an Xbox 360 only fools us, not them, btw.
My shopping was completed in a timely fashion, no harm done; I now find myself with some time to spend watching Rudolph hide from the Abominable Snowman.
Because you never know, he might actually get eaten this time.
