I Hate the Holidays…

Yep, you read right: I hate the holidays.  By “the holidays,” I mean the season starting right around Halloween (which I know isn’t a real holiday, but that’s when this all starts)…

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… and ending shortly after the champagne is drained on New Year’s Eve.

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I hate this time of year.  Not that I don’t appreciate things like Christ’s birth.  You know, He went on to die a horrible death on a cross for our sins!  His is a birth worth celebrating.  It’s not that I don’t need to show my appreciation for all that I have by gorging myself on turkey and mashed potatoes and pecan pie… I do that just like I’m supposed to.  The reason I hate the holidays is because the holidays are a two-month extravaganza leading to the ending of another year.  The holidays are also the beginning of a new year that is supposed to hold new promise and hope for great things to come.  Whatever…

Being an old pessimist, the ending of a year means another year of exactly what I expected: nothing spectacular.

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I spent about 35% of my waking hours in 2011 getting up much earlier than I cared to and going to a job.  I sat at a desk and talked with people who were upset with their Internet service, tried to manage a small cast of characters, and had any creative marketing idea I came up with shot down faster than the boss could say, “I’m not feeling it.”  I think a funny YouTube video with a grandma, an alien,  a “probe” and Internet would be hilarious and create much interest in our Internet services.  The boss disagrees.  Whatever… it’s his company.  If he wants to keep it a “family-friendly” local business, that’s his choice.  I guess my ideas are better for a national (or even world-wide) audience.  My thoughts are too grand for Crapbraska.

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After work, I almost daily went to the YMCA to do some cardio, which I recently discovered was pretty much worthless.  Even though I worked my butt off at the Y, I didn’t lose a pound (apparently everything on my butt went straight to my gut), and I still found myself going on both high blood pressure and cholesterol medication this past year.  I’m destined to be a fat person who doesn’t quite fit in…

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At this point, it should be fairly obvious that a large portion of my life is nothing more than a huge waste of time.  That’s always gratifying… knowing that a large portion of the time you spend breathing air is nothing more than time spent stealing air from someone who makes a difference.

So, the holidays do nothing more for me than remind me that I spent a large portion of the year not mattering.  See, an optimist may find that realization a little depressing; for a pessimist, it’s the status quo.  Long live the pessimist, usurper of the air of people who matter!

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Thus, what the new year holds for me is little to get excited about.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  Such is life.

The great thing about being a pessimist is I know exactly what the new year is going to bring… no pleasant surprises.  And if there is a pleasant surprise, it will be just that: a pleasant surprise.

The sucky thing about being a pessimist is I know exactly what the new year is going to bring…

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…happy holidays, or whatever…