In Limbo

The days between Christmas and the new year are suspended in amber; a week of feeling in limbo — at least for me.

The frenzy leading up to Christmas that started at Halloween and progressed to Thanksgiving and finally to December 25 is a mess of cooking and baking and cleaning — and now it’s over, along with the twenty-four hour Christmas music on the radio.

It’s so so quiet outside, like a day during the pandemic.

It’s a great time to shop the after-holiday sales, but I have enough wrapping paper and Christmas cards and decorations to last until the next century, so I’m not all that excited about the 75% off prices…although I DO love a bargain.

But — we’re not quite done because the end of the year is only a few days away and that occasion is supposed to be memorialized by some sort of celebration, whether you choose to go to a ball or a party or stay home by the fire with a glass of champagne and try to stay awake until midnight.

And then it’s over — but not until the idiots shoot guns in the air and set off more fireworks that scare all the animals.

I’m not sure I’d call this feeling a full fledged depression, but there’s a term that describes it pretty well… Post Holiday Blues. It sounds like it should be the title of a song, right? PHB refers to the letdown we might feel after all the excitement and anticipation leading up to the holidays.

I hope Santa brought you everything you asked for and enjoy this week in limbo, waiting for 2025.