I needed a hair cut today. You’d think, on one of the rare occasions I didn’t actually have any more last minute shopping to do, that I would avoid the mall on December 23, wouldn’t you? Apparently I’m not all that good at thinking things through, although the truth is it was a fairly well reasoned plan, in that I wanted my hair shorter before vacation, but with a little bit of lead time to let it grow out of the weirdo stage that always happens right after a cut. Unfortunately, that meant strolling in to the salon in the final couple of days before Christmas.
I had other plans, too; I wanted to hit the gym afterward, and then come home and relax a bit before wrapping Brian’s presents after he went to bed. But, best laid plans, and all of that. It was almost nine o’clock by the time I left the mall, as apparently everyone and their dog had a good reason for needing a new hair do this evening. Much as I really needed a workout, it was just far too late in the day to be heading over to the gym.
But before that decision, as I wandered the mall, waiting for my turn in the cutting chair, seeing everyone bustling around(including quite a few folks who did not seem particularly merry), I had a pretty good understanding of why the concept of Festivus arose. The season is supposed to be joyous, magical, peaceful. But there’s just so much to do. It’s no wonder people get cranky—everyone’s exhausted. Not that I want to quit exchanging gifts, or having family gatherings, or decorating, because that’s all the fun part of the holiday. But how do you do all of that without wearing yourself to a nub? I haven’t figured that out yet. But you can see where a Festivus pole would have its appeal.