I finally did my Christmas cards last night. Well, not all of them, just the ones I'd be embarrassed NOT to send.
I'm sure, as always, there'll be one or two "last minute mailers" (like me) who'll arrange things so that I get their cards on Christmas Eve (yeah, yeah, I know it's Sunday this year) so that I can feel miserable all Christmas Day and they can gloat that they've ruined my Christmas by causing me unceasing remorse and guilt.
The lousy pricks.
I don't know why I procrastinate so much (I'm just as bad as my friend, Bev, who is a World-Class Black-Belt Procrastinator -- she loves the adreniline rush she gets from snatching victory from the jaws of defeat at the last minute.) Once I actually pick up the pen and do the first card, it just seems to breeze along until I'm done. But I dread picking up the pen. No, it's much more important to kill time screwing around on the internet, shopping for bargain tickets to B'way shows, looking up the meaning of life in Wikipedia, re-reading my favorite blogs; spending hours cruising "Wonkette", "JoeMyGod", "TMZ", "The Huffington Post" and, of course, my dear friends Bev Sykes and her "Funny The World" and Steve Schalchlin with "Life in the Bonus Round" (Broadway Edition).
I've done the labels, including the return address mini-labels. I've bought the cards. Everything is sitting in a neat little pile in the middle of the coffee table just waiting .... waiting... waiting... for me to develop a little Blond Ambition.
So last night I ran out of excuses to give myself and did it.
I can't tell you the sense of accomplishment I got from it. There's something about flipping through the envelopes to make sure I put stamps on all of them and then placing them in the bag I'll use to tote them to the Park and Ride with me in the morning that's akin to successfully removing a tumor.
Or something. Bad image. Sorry. But you get the idea.
And then, this morning, when I finally opened that bag in front of the mailbox... and held the door open as I dumped my load of Christmas Cheer into the mail... I did a quick, mental calculation...
and realized that, with any luck, most of them will arrive
on Christmas Eve.
I'm a lousy prick.