On the weekends, I run around all. day. long.
Everything that there is no time to do during the week must be done on the weekends. And it seems that it takes every second of the weekend to get it done.
Then the week starts and there's all the endless stuff that takes up every second of the week. And then it's the weekend again. And on it goes, moving and turning and swirling until I'm just dizzy and tired and want to crawl into bed and stay there. Maybe forever.
I can't remember the last time I sat down on the couch for more than the amount of time it takes to pull on a pair of socks.
Somehow, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, all of that changes. Somehow, time appears.
I realize this is counter to basic common sense, and maybe even popular opinion. I don't understand what kind of strange quirk in the time/space continuum exists that allows me to find extra time between Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I quit trying to understand it or figure it out some time ago.
In the next month, I will magically find time to watch approximately 14 movies, even though I haven't found time to watch even one in the past four months.
I will find time to read four novels.
I will find time to sit and sip tea and/or cocoa and listen to music and look at pretty lights (seriously! just sit! without doing anything else!).
I will find time to bake endless amounts of cookies, and then decorate them, frost them, dip them in chocolate and otherwise fancy them up.
I will find time to do and see and go and lots of other things that I don't even know about yet.
And some how....
All of the endless stuff that always needs to be done will still get done.
I guess it's all part of the holiday magic...