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Emily Morrison Emily Morrison
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Holidays Shmolidays

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After the holidays, everything savors of anti-climax. It's only logical I guess. We spend weeks (some of us months) in preparation, decoration and eager anticipation of the holiday season, so it follows that life feels a little ho-hum after so much joy and good cheer. I'm dealing with my own post season slump, and it just ain't pretty.

First, I bought myself a Jillian Michaels workout DVD for Christmas. I think Jillian Micheals is a robot. Besides being quite surfer-dudish, I think she's a cyborg created to say things like, 'Shred it, girl.' I don't want to shred anything. I want to shed belly fat, not shred it. That just sounds painful.

The holidays really tested my 'fashion for poor people' sense. I couldn't seem to find one outfit to wear for both eves: Christmas and New Year's. You cannot wear leather to the birth of the Christ child any more than you can rock a fuzzy reindeer sweater for the end of the year blow-out. It's hard to find an outfit that says, 'Happy Birthday Jesus' and 'Pour me another egg nog' simultaneously. I settled for a sparkling sequin sweater dress. Was it a sweater? Was it a dress? I'm still not sure.

Then there's the buyer's remorse. Are my parents truly happy with the treadmill? Are gift cards cold and mercenary or warm and thoughtful? I wish I knew if my nephew really wants to make a volcano erupt. Maybe volcanic eruptions just aren't cool anymore. Why did I get my kids so much crap? I'm swimming in a sea of Christmas consumerism, and I just want someone to throw me the 'Everyone buys useless stuff' line.

To shake my end-of-the-season blahs, I went out with my best friends for dinner and dancing. We really lived it up. It was like we were in our 20s again, for about 20 minutes. We had reservations at a bistro (where we were the only table in the joint - surprise, surprise) and my kids called at bedtime (another surprise). Plus, I ran into former students while out and about. By the end of the evening, I felt like Lindsay Lohan's mother (infer: a woman past her prime). But I absolutely love my girlfriends, so any time with them is always a good time.

Lastly, it's just hard rejoining the rest of the work world. Teachers are incredibly lucky. We get so much time with our families, more time than most when it comes to vacation. I'll also go on the record and say that I love what I do. I actually miss those little buggers when I don't see them for a while. They grow on you like fungus, those kids. It's the waking up early, staying late, rushing to get supper on the table and the kids in the bathtub that I don't miss. Once the holidays are over, it's back to the grindstone. I don't care how much you love your job, nobody loves the grind.

What can anyone do to pull themselves up out of this anti-climax angst? I think the answer lies in more spending. I plan on buying a different workout regiment with no talk of shredding, purchasing some new clothes with one of those thoughtful gift cards I got, picking up a few more books for the kids instead of flashy toys, doing more dinners with my old friends and spending some quality time with my kids at school. So there you have it, the key to overcoming the post-holiday blahs: spend, spend, spend.


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