It's not that I don't like Christmas. I think the lights are pretty. Elves crack me up. I like giving little things to my family and friends. I really, really like the cocktails. The problem is that I can't get the least bit interested in it until about mid-December. About now. Even then, I don't truly care until about the 23rd, when I start to feel a little festive.
Whatever, it doesn't matter, except that this means I feel no real urgency about making gifts or baking for people until it's far too late. This year's ambitious project, to make X thingies with cute little Ys on them, is being scaled back daily. The gift idea is now but a shadow of its former self. If I keep lowering my expectations at the current rate, my Christmas project is going to consist of stuffing dryer lint and cat turds into recycled junk-mail envelopes, taping them shut, and sending them out to everyone on the 27th.
I'm pretty sure no one wants that. I better get started.