Dark Days

We have entered the dark days.

No, neither the end of civilization (that may still come) nor the darkest, shortest days of the year, but the days when the lights, glitter and bows get tucked away for another year.

Like many children, I would love for Christmas to last all year; lights on houses, gaily decorated trees in every home, candles, Christmas carols (!), presents and parties, egg nog and cookies with sugar and sprinkles. People are nicer, people are more generous, dour old fucks like me even don a Santa Hat and act like a fool. Did I say egg nog??

But now it is in a box. My Christmas paraphernalia is all packed, ornaments in boxes, tree all disassembled, lights in a bag. The building hallways are now bare of the fragrant, fresh wreaths on every door, the black wood doors look more foreboding and somber, less welcoming than they did last week.

But I would imagine if it were perpetual Christmas, we would get tired of it soon. The lights would burn out, the carols quickly grow stale, the egg nog as thrilling as a glass of tap water. We'd long for a little less glitz.

It is still a bit disconcerting to see the world doff its finery and return to bland normality. But remember how it feels getting out of your glamorous, formal, stud-buttoned tux or slinky, tight gown with stylish yet horribly uncomfortable shoes and back into a pair of old sweats, a T and slippers; it is relaxing and a relief as well.