Every year, it feels like Christmas later and later. The whole festive, Christmas-y spirit doesn't hit me until it's almost the big day, and by this year I was wondering if it would even hit me at all until midway through present-opening. That kills me. My favorite part of Christmas has never been the songs, decorations, peppermint mochas, or any of that crap. It's always been the feeling... the weeks leading up to the 25th, where everywhere you go, there's red and green and lights and scarves and Nat King Cole or Michael Buble on the radio.
And if growing up means every year I get less of that, well then it's Reason #576 why I'd rather not grow up.
But last night, as I was musing over the surprisingly happy ending to the day (consisting of a lovely Skype call, a successful English paper, and reuniting with an old friend over, yes, a peppermint mocha), suddenly, it hit me. I honestly think it may have been in the shower. Or when I was making my "Holiday Box" for calculus.
When I woke up this morning, Christmastime had struck. I was festive.
I fully enjoyed the Christmas music as I was getting ready, despite it being the same songs I listen to every year. I loved the fact that I accidentally got glitter all over my jeans, and that I was wearing snow boots, and I blasted Michael Buble in my kitchen at 7:00am. And loved it.
And literally, it hasn't stopped all day. I've been unnaturally bubbly and excited, all because the Christmas spirit finally hit me. I gave a friend their Christmas present and watched them freak out (because let's face it, I'm the best gift-giver of anyone I know), and I couldn't wait for tomorrow, which will be my Annual Day of Gift-Giving To All My Friends.
In a nutshell: it's officially Christmastime, guys. It happened overnight. I'm in the spirit as of this morning.
Let it snow.
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