Christmas Spirit
Dec. 22nd, 2004 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianI've just printed off the lyrics to Tom Lehrer's "Christmas Time is Here, By Golly" and tacked it to the bulletin board in my office. No, I'm not really feeling all that Scroogey at the minute. It's just the bit about "It doesn't matter how sincere it / Is, or how heartfelt the spirit / Sentiment will not endear it / What's important is the price". I like Tom Lehrer for the creative approach he takes to rhyming, and for the sarcasm.
Seriously, it's something I started thinking about when considering my various Christmas weirdnesses; this whole gift-giving thing and various people's approach to it. Take for example consultants. It must be a really tricky time of year for them because they want to show they value the people who work so hard to make their professional lives easier, yet they don't know these people on anything but a surface level and therefore have no idea what they really want. Take for instance Dr Slater. Most people in the office got bottles of wine from her; I got chocolates. And I don't mind. In fact, I'm well chuffed. Why? Because Dr Slater has no idea whether or not I drink ... but she does know that my recently deceased grandmother was a recovered alcoholic. (I ran Nanny's case by her when I heard about the bowel cancer because, hey, consultant oncologist who might be able to tell me what the odds were.) And she also knows I like chocolate. That took thought on a more personal level than Dr Slevin's gift, which means that I appreciate it in a different way than I do the wallet that I can't really use but feel bad about selling on eBay. After all, he didn't have to.
Another tricky one is the parents. I don't have to deal with that this year, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief -- not because I don't have to shop for them, but because I don't stand to get anything from them. I know how that sounds, but the thing is that my mother uses the holiday season to give me, not things I want, but things she thinks I should have; namely, clothes. I know she hates how I dress, but does she have to use Christmas as an excuse to revamp my wardrobe? (Not this year, she doesn't. In fact, she can't. Thank God.) That's a really twisted kind of generosity.
I know I've been depressed about the holiday season lately, but I've come to the following conclusion. I'm spending Christmas with people I want to see rather than those I feel obliged to endure. I managed to get the gifts right again this year; everyone seemed happy with what I got them. Not only do I not have to put up with the 'self-improvement gifts', but I got some nifty stuff that proves people know what sort of things I'd actually want (yay coffee mug!). People care, and it's a good thing. So really, that makes this Best Christmas Ever. I intend to at least try not to forget that.
I also intend not to go post-Ghost Scrooge on everybody. I tend to be a little more mellow about my epiphanies.
Seriously, it's something I started thinking about when considering my various Christmas weirdnesses; this whole gift-giving thing and various people's approach to it. Take for example consultants. It must be a really tricky time of year for them because they want to show they value the people who work so hard to make their professional lives easier, yet they don't know these people on anything but a surface level and therefore have no idea what they really want. Take for instance Dr Slater. Most people in the office got bottles of wine from her; I got chocolates. And I don't mind. In fact, I'm well chuffed. Why? Because Dr Slater has no idea whether or not I drink ... but she does know that my recently deceased grandmother was a recovered alcoholic. (I ran Nanny's case by her when I heard about the bowel cancer because, hey, consultant oncologist who might be able to tell me what the odds were.) And she also knows I like chocolate. That took thought on a more personal level than Dr Slevin's gift, which means that I appreciate it in a different way than I do the wallet that I can't really use but feel bad about selling on eBay. After all, he didn't have to.
Another tricky one is the parents. I don't have to deal with that this year, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief -- not because I don't have to shop for them, but because I don't stand to get anything from them. I know how that sounds, but the thing is that my mother uses the holiday season to give me, not things I want, but things she thinks I should have; namely, clothes. I know she hates how I dress, but does she have to use Christmas as an excuse to revamp my wardrobe? (Not this year, she doesn't. In fact, she can't. Thank God.) That's a really twisted kind of generosity.
I know I've been depressed about the holiday season lately, but I've come to the following conclusion. I'm spending Christmas with people I want to see rather than those I feel obliged to endure. I managed to get the gifts right again this year; everyone seemed happy with what I got them. Not only do I not have to put up with the 'self-improvement gifts', but I got some nifty stuff that proves people know what sort of things I'd actually want (yay coffee mug!). People care, and it's a good thing. So really, that makes this Best Christmas Ever. I intend to at least try not to forget that.
I also intend not to go post-Ghost Scrooge on everybody. I tend to be a little more mellow about my epiphanies.