I'm no good at this season. I've no talent for shopping. I could care less if my house is lit or if there is a tree in the corner. I used to love all that stuff. I don't know what happened.
Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe working 50 or 60 hours a week leaves no time for that other stuff. Maybe I'm cynical and jaded. Oh, and I don't believe in the Reason For The Season, either. Hmmmm, maybe we're onto something here.
I like buying presents for people. It's the wrapping and shipping parts I don't necessarily ever--ahem--get to. There is a corner in a closet where I toss things I've purchased for others and never given.
A partial list:
One (1) luggage tag in shape of a woman's pump. Totally cute. Meant for my friend in LA.
One (1) boxed Family Game Set purchased for our friends in Virginia.
Two (2) scarves: one black, one purple. I think they were meant for my nieces.
One (1) book of IOU sexual favors gift certificates purchased for my hubby and god knows how it ended up in the pile. Like I can give it to anyone else?
One (1) book titled Raising A Daughter, purchased for a friend who just had one. I forgot to give it to her when she first had the baby and I don't see her often. The child will be raised by the time she actually receives the book.
One (1) cutie-pie girl's hat and gloves set and a little boy sweatshirt from The Gap purchased for some friends' kids TWO Christmases ago. Oops.
One (1) set of amber glass bear salt-and-pepper shakers purchased for the parents of the above kids. They (the bears, not the kids) are now in my kitchen, where sometimes D. and I face them together like they're kissing. They are too cute.
Six (6) fish barrettes purchased for my niece about three years ago. And a t-shirt from our Farmers Market for her brother.
When I buy things for people, D. looks at me with an eyebrow cocked up like he knows where they're going to end up.
In the closet. The closet of misfit gifts. Waiting for Santa.
I live in the PNW. I recently started working from home as an ad copywriter and business writer. I was raised Catholic in a big 'ol Irish-German family. The love for beer took. The religion didn't take at all.