waking up on the 26th,
you can't help but feel disappointed.
after all the jingle bells, after all the chesnuts roasting,
all that expectation.
-
but then a final gift-
the quiet calm of normalcy.
the gift of everyday life.
your real home.
better than all the holiday cookies in the world.
even better than the unwrapping.
-
the self-examination of new year's looms.
i'm conjuring up my resolve.
(evidentally, i'm accomplishing that by gluttony in all its wondrous forms.)