Christmas isn’t here yet, and I’m already worn out. Who feels the same? You can show your hands. I won’t tell. Beneath all the sparkles, parties and sales this season are a lot of tired eyes. I’m weary with you, weary ones.
Over the past two weeks, I’ve transferred a kitchen that could easily feed a family. I’ve packed and unpacked enough photography equipment and props to shoot an entire cookbook. I’ve driven five hours home and back for Thanksgiving (worth it alone for my grandmother’s reaction to an electric pepper grinder), and I’ve scrubbed three years’ worth of dust from my old rent house. I’ve placed my first grown-up furniture orders and nearly had heart attacks at checkout.
I’m so tired, you guys, but there is no time for rest yet. I’m working on another round of cookbook edits through next week. I have fun parties to attend. My thirty-first birthday is looming just 24 days away, and I’m as single as ever. And yet, my cookbook is turning out beautifully, and this new space is so nice. I have more counter space for my creations and I’m finally trading in my hand-me-down box spring for a proper bed with a headboard. A headboard!
I’m blessed with a season of abundance. Friends and family to celebrate the holidays with, the sweetest four-legged companion, and readers who let me do what I love for a living. I’m so thankful for all of you. I haven’t been as present in this space as I like to be lately, but your presence and comments are as appreciated as ever.
Here’s what I’m trying to say: the holidays are hard and wonderful. It’s a condensed and conflicting time. A time to celebrate new loves, and a time to mourn those who aren’t here. I’m right there with you.