‘Tis the season for New Years Resolutions we’ll break by January 5th, and a season for focus on More here in America. More festivities, more holidays, bigger Christmas trees, brighter lights, more Miriah Carrey over the Target stereo so I can never escape her. It’s insurance deductible reset season, too, which means my job is also focused on More. More hysterectomies, more skin biopsies, more leg amputations for frostbite, more toes and fingers from unfortunate winter sports accidents, more elective procedures done just in time for insurance to cover all of the cost. Mountains and mountains of specimens crossing my bench, in addition to spending more money on more gifts and going to more parties and dealing with more family drama and more friends in town.
All I want to do is sleep.
It’s heinous, isn’t it, that the busiest season of the year is also the darkest. I wake up at noon, unable to raise my aching bones from my bed to face the cold, then blink and it’s dark again. The neighbors lucky enough to have houses deck them out in lights not pleasing to the eye, but in a way that seems intent on outdoing their neighbors. Red and green and blue strobe lights blinding me when all I’m trying to do is drive home. I shudder in empathy for anyone with epilepsy or other light sensitivities during the season.
My bank account is collecting more moths than dollars these days. I just got a raise, but it’s not enough. My list of people I ought to get gifts for is longer and longer each year — that’s not even considering the December birthdays that get shirked for their own personal holidays falling so close to Christmas. My hands ache from trying to crochet as many gifts as I can, sparing my bank account at the expense of my bones. I wonder when — if — the Christmas bonus is coming this year. I feel like National Lampoon, going slowly insane.
Can’t we do this at a better time? Like, April? I could handle this shit in April.
from the pen of icarus blake 
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