I’ve been suffering bouts of the holiday blues for a number of years now–since at least 2014 according to THIS post. Growing older, missing out on being close to my family, and angst about the year to come and what I will accomplish regularly combine to put me in a December funk. (And it doesn’t help that I listen to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas on repeat. It’s a sad song disguised as a happy one.)
I’ve been feeling the seasonal melancholy seep in for the past couple of weeks, and this year it’s been compounded by the fact that Toes is staying at my parents’ house in Ohio. I hadn’t realized until she was gone how much I rely on being able to go out to the garage and give her a pet when I’m feeling down.
The good news is we have less than a week until we’re reunited with Toes, and she’ll be with us for Christmas this year. The past two she’s been boarded at the vet. Surely celebrating with her and my family will lift my spirits, and until then, I’ll content myself with memories of pets.