I usually like to imagine that the five weeks or so of each year is one long party, starting with Thanksgiving and lasting all the way through New Year’s Eve. The logic is that with the two major holidays for which my family gets together, work holiday parties, gathering of friends, my birthday and finally the big outdoor party at the end I get to spend an inordinate amount of fun. Of course, while I usually think this it usually doesn’t come true.
For one thing, the job I work at now doesn’t have a holiday party so much as the company buys a lot of food for everybody during a normal workday. That’s still pretty cool despite the fact that there isn’t much for us vegetarians that work there and it usually arrives later than my lunch (considering that I’m the only one who, by state law, has to start my lunch break no later than 9:59 in the morning I can’t complain too much about that). But there’s no actual “party” to speak of. We’re not getting together after hours in order to shoot the shit or perhaps drink together.
I don’t get together with friends much, either. When I was in high school one friend of mine would host a holiday party every year. This continued into our twenties but not for very long. The last time he hosted one it had been a while so I thought we were returning to form. However, he had to cancel at the last minute. He had an understandable reason but we haven’t gotten together since. Otherwise, the only two friends of mine that I ever really hung out with in my adult life have both moved far from here. Occasionally one of them does make it to my part of the world but it’s not always the same time of year. Being a shy loner, it’s hard for me to make new friends. But hey, I won’t do so just for the sake of getting invited to a holiday party.
The biggest anti-climax to my five-week-long party theme is that I usually don’t go out on New Year’s Eve. I only go out if it lands on a Friday or Saturday night and I can stay up late. Otherwise, I don’t bother making a big deal out of it. I could have gotten tomorrow off by switching shifts to work on Sunday. However, I already did that in order to get Monday, my birthday, off. I doubt I could have fiddled around with my schedule more so.
Why bother, anyway? So I can go out in the cold in order to watch other people dance to music I don’t enjoy? Or to pay extra to go to a restaurant and toast the New Year? As I write this I’m already staying up too late at a quarter to eight, making my way through a pint of beer that I bought for home. The holiday itself doesn’t mean much to me. I suppose if I had the resources I might be able to go out and enjoy myself. But I don’t really feel like I’m missing anything.
To end this, I should say that I did enjoy the get-togethers that I did have, such as Thanksgiving and Christmas with family as well as the three-day birthday weekend I just gave myself. I’ll probably delete yesterday’s post after all. I left it up there for a little bit just so I could prove that I am making my minimum-word count posts. I still felt depressed today about the subject matter but I don’t want to be such a whiner over such an unimportant issue. I know, that never stopped me before, but this involved other people.