As the month of December creeps relentlessly forward towards the 25th, I can’t help feeling that I’m edging towards a precipice, and I’m about to topple over it. I suppose that’s not in keeping with the Christmas spirit, but I’ve always been a procrastinator whenever the season to be jolly approaches. Maybe I need to take a night course in jollyness training.
I’ll catch the contagious mood eventually. How can I help it? Who could possibly resist the charms of “Jingle Bell Rock” played on synth strings at every mall, bank, restaurant, and supermarket? Before long, I’ll be imagining the uplifting, deeply spiritual moments of the First Noel. Wasn’t that Noel Coward? If not, he’s certainly the most famous Noel that I know of. Anyway, I’ll fall deeply into the spirit of Noel, humming “You’re the Tops”, “Anything Goes”, or “Mad Dogs and Englishmen”, and in this way I’ll help pass along some of the jollyness of the season to others.
But behind that, there’s still a certain amount of anxiety. I mean, don’t I have to buy gifts or something? I like to of course, but every time I search my brain for gift ideas, I draw a blank. It’s like writer’s block, but with gifts. Gifter’s block.
I try the usual techniques that help break writer’s block, like random words to start the creative juices flowing. But that usually goes something like this: Sandwiches? No. Aardvarks? No. Onomatopeoia? No!
It’s difficult. I’ll get it figured out in the end, usually in a last-minute panic on Christmas Eve. In the meantime, I’ll occupy myself with putting up lights, munching on Christmas baked goods, and searching the adult learning catalog for Jollyness 101.