a duet with swedish chef

I swear, this s*@& (somehow it feels wrong to curse in writing on Christmas) never gets old.

So…I worry that I’ve become someone who feels perpetually anxious around Christmas, in probably the best way.  John and I are so lucky in that, since his father moved back to the states from London, both that side of the family and my dad live within about 25 minutes of each other.  Therefore, we get to do this dance between the two families and, as a result, likely consume about 8,000 calories/day in the name of Christmas cheer.  And then there’s the y’s & co. (my fabulous TJ cohort) and a handful of beloved wahoos, much of whom descends upon Northern VA around this time of year to their respective parental units.  I wish I could make the minutes stretch, or maybe have Hermione’s time turner, so I don’t feel this constant nervousness that I’m missing it.  Of course, it probably doesn’t help that I have a body that just shuts off, regardless of location, when it decides it’s had enough.  During the y’s gift exchange on the 23rd, I spent most of the evening passed out of Leo’s couch…pretty typical Anna behavior that this group, after over a decade, knows well enough to ignore.  Basically, I acknowledge that I’m probably the luckiest girl in the world, but, come on, can’t I just get a turbo-charge body for Christmas one year so that I can see more of all the people I love??

With that, I should be getting back.  Updates have been light or nonexistent recently, but I have a feeling a megapost is in the works to tie up the end of the semester.  Merry Christmas!