It’s Christmas Eve and I am a big ball of nerves. I know I’m not the first person to stress during the holidays, but this is a first for me. Usually, I don’t have much to worry about come Christmas. But tonight, I’m wound so tight that I feel like snapping at any moment. I’m anxious and skittish. I’ve been running myself ragged, trying to prepare for Mouse’s arrival, and am exhausted, but I can’t seem to make myself stop. It’s been nearly four months since we’ve seen each other and I’ve become obsessed with making everything perfect. I want the food to be perfect. I want the weather to be perfect. I want my hair to be perfect. I want our airport interlude to be perfect. I want the entirety of his trip to be perfect. (Do you see what I mean? I am a woman on a mission to perfection.) I’ve spent this entire week readying for his arrival. I’ve been planning and prepping meals, packing our gear to head down the coast, and primping and preening myself. I want everything to be just so. The problem is, I’ve built it all up so much in my head that reality will never be able to compare. And, let’s be honest, nothing ever goes as planned. There is absolutely no chance that our holidays will reach the desired peak of perfection I’ve dreamt up for us. So, I’m going to do my best to let go and relax. I’m going to pour myself a glass of wine, watch a sappy chick flick, and attempt to unwind. It doesn’t do me any good to stress about the impossible, after all.
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