Christmas. 2017.

Fuck cold.
Fuck snow.
Fuck Christmas.
Fuck winter.

I feel better now.

Christmas got to me on Monday. Caught me by surprise.

Because of the fucking impending snow storm on Monday, Carol and I celebrated Christmas on Sunday with Keith and Craig.

It was spectacular as always. I will never be able to emphasize enough how much joy Carol and I get from having Keith and Craig around.

Monday rolled around, I went out and shoveled for a couple of hours, and came in to chill for the rest of the day.

That's when it hit me.

We did not put up our tiny tree this year, no decorations in the house, we did not exchange presents. I did not think I cared about this; really gave it very little thought.

But depression took over. Every once in a great while I get so down that it is a fucking effort to speak. If I have to leave the house it is overwhelming to have to deal with another human.

On Monday I realized that I could not make the obligatory phone calls. I usually call Dina, talk to Eddie etc.

I could not do it. Could not muster up any phony Christmas enthusiasm. So I did not call.

I knew the only humans I could genuinely talk to were Keith and Craig. And we did, later in the day.

Of course Dina and Eddie called me and I felt sorry for them. I sounded so down they must have thought I was holding a knife against my throat.

I don't know where this shit came from. The only answer I can come up with is that it has been such an awful year that I was royally pissed that the weather conspired to fuck with our holiday. One more fucking slap in the face.

Carol has suffered, everything is upside down and Christmas got re-scheduled.

What the fuck else do you have in store for us, motherfucker?

"Love, Actually" is a Christmas tradition for me and Carol. We watch it every year and did so again on Monday afternoon.

It hit me hard. It is a silly little movie but it is packed with sensitivity and human emotion. Fucking tears on my cheeks. Unbelievable.

Monday night we watched "A Christmas Carol" starring George C. Scott. My favorite version of this movie.

Again, intensity and tears.

I honestly am not sure what happened to me on Monday.

I missed the tree. I like to look into the lights at night and think deep thoughts. Like a flower child on acid.

I felt like I should have found a way to give Carol a present. If anybody deserves a treat, a surprise, a break from harsh reality, it is my loving wife.

I was empty. That kind of describes it. I felt hollow. Something was missing, something I wish was there, but I don't think I can describe it.

Fuck 2017. Fuck Christmas 2017.

Bring on 2018. My birthday. January 1, 2018. My 64th birthday, kicking off the next year in our life.

I shit on 2017.

I intend to take 2018 by storm. My Number 1 Goal is to pursue happiness for me and Carol. With a motherfucking vengeance.

We have come too far and worked too hard to get fucked by life at this point.

I issue a warning to 2018. Do not get in my way. Do not harm us anymore. If you do I will take a baseball bat to your head, knock you down, kick and break your ribs, bust your fucking teeth out and bruise your kidneys.

You will piss blood.

Happy Fucking New Year.