Out of Egypt (or Hiatus, or what-have-you)

It's nearly Christmas, and months and weeks have spun by in a work-blur.  I am working about 65 hours a week, enough so that I don't have a night at home more than once every couple of weeks.  My house looks like a small tornado has nested in the living room, where for the last week laundry, books, movies, presents, boxes, mail, and the occasional glass have rested haphazardly on the couches, floor, and entertainment center.  I currently have more clothing in my living room than I do in my closets. 

Intervention time?  Perhaps.  I would not be averse to a different manner of living, but I know it won't happen until after the holidays, when I will FINALLY reduce my workload to a more manageable 45-50 hours a week, and life will take a sharp and hopefully quick redirect to a more relaxed pace.  It would be nice to eat dinner while sitting down once in a while.  Not to mention return a few dozen phone calls, write a few dozen emails, and perhaps fold the ever-present laundry that has made itself at home on my loveseat.  Luckily that last can be accomplished while finishing two seasons of Veronica Mars.  I love multi-tasking.

Christmas is my favorite holiday.  I love giving gifts, seeing family, and singing my heart out in preparation for the Christ-child.  This year, every moment is bittersweet; I have not decorated, have not searched ever-so-diligently for the perfect gift, have not caroled loudly in reckless disregard for jaundiced ears.  I have worked and worked and WORKED so that others may do so, and I feel unprepared.  Last week I had nightmares about losing my ability to speak and frantically trying to help someone without being able to answer their questions.  I dreamt I slept through my alarm about four times.  Once I even dreamt that my alarm went off, and I woke up and went about my morning, only to discover that it was 3 a.m.  I'm ready to be done.

I will write a special post for Stackable Bards about Christmas, about the moment when we realize what Love was delivered to us that long-ago morning.  But here, I beg your forgiveness for my long absence, and I confess I am tired and worn out, that I need that Love more than ever, and that it will be with a profound sense of relief that I see the new year come, bringing some much-needed rest.