Why? You may ask.
Well, for a number of reasons– all of which, I have to admit, are both selfish and hedonistic. I refuse to apologize for this. December 26th is the slacker’s favorite holiday for the following reasons:
* There is GOOD random shit on the television.
* There are a lot of new books out to distract me from the fact that nobody else is working.
* There is enough diet coke in my refrigerator to send me to the moon.
* The cats–scandalized by the riot in the living room the day before– largely ignore us, providing we feed them.
|Squish at my parents with a
4 month old puppy they were
* Whether or not the laundry is done, we’re mostly wearing sweat pants anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Hell, only a desire to not knock my own boobs with my knees in a few years forces me to even put on a bra.
* My children are exhausted, and by happy happy coincidence they have just been handed a whole bunch of lovely diversions that allow them to immerse themselves in quiet activity for most of the day.
|That dog loved by
* Because the family has been gone or busy for so long, the dog thinks having us all to himself is the best thing ever, and wants to snuggle and give us attention.
* Absolutely nothing is expected of me or mine except that we process oxygen into CO2, and flush the toilet when needed.
* Only the dedicated and the brave go to the gym on December 26th. I am neither.
* Whether or not I had all my knitting done in time for Christmas, my deadline has passed. I can now knit for pleasure again– as long as I knit the things that need to get done.
* Most years, the last thing I published in recent memory was my Christmas letter, and nobody leaves 2* reviews on GoodReads for that.
* In this instant, like Peter Boyle says in While You Were Sleeping, everything is perfect.