Now that I'm working in retail, my whole schedule revolves around when the shoppers are hopping. Which means this week--Thanksgiving week, the busiest shopping day of the year--will be the busiest week I've had in a while. I like being in a city for Christmas: Macy's has their window displays out, each window a marionette diorama of a scene from the Joffrey Ballet's Nutcracker; a puppeteer was doing a Punch and Judy impression on the street corner; the Salvation Army bellringers are out already, wishing people a Happy Turkey Day instead of a Happy Christmas. I'm annoyed by how Christmas has somehow managed to seep out of its Thanksgiving Day boundaries, but the cheer and happiness is not so forced or worn out that I can't enjoy it. I'm working on Black Friday (but, also, participating in Buy Nothing Day, which should provide an interesting counterpoint) and the Saturday after. Putting money in the bank for a snowy day.
I'm not going home for Thanksgiving, and I'm not cooking. The roommates will be gone, so I will have the house to myself for a change. The last two years I cooked dinner for twelve people in Britain, and the year before that was Boston, so I guess I earned a year off this year. This week Thanksgiving will simply be "Thursday: the Day Off" and I'm trying to come up with something I can do that doesn't involve stores. Possibly sewing on a dress, or maybe making a pumpkin pie. Working on my 1776 research, which has been woefully neglected. Or maybe just watching Lord of the Rings from dawn until dusk.
I guess this post is a little depressive. I didn't mean for it to be. I'm just excited for my birthday, what with people coming from all over the universe to help me celebrate, that I completely forgot about setting up this other holiday. Oh well. There's always next year.