Dealing with the bizarre festive haze

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The Holiday Season is not just about Christmas Day itself and gift giving or endless, mouth-watering meals, each weighing in at about 5,500 calories. It is also about the mystifying plight of losing complete track of time while remaining somewhat blasé and blissfully befuddled. I don’t know about you but I have been in an unshakable state of discombobulation since Christmas Eve. And it happens every single year.

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It should be noted here that this annual punch-drunk stupor has nothing whatsoever to do with tingly blood-alcohol levels or second helpings of delicious, homemade Christmas treats. Well okay, maybe just a wee bit of both.

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If you happen to be a regular reader of this little column, you are likely aware of my ongoing struggle with everyday bewilderment. For the record, it’s a losing battle. So you can imagine how completely disoriented I become at Christmastime. The festive haze reaches its peak over the three-days-of-Christmas when I completely lose track of what day it is. OK, let me be clear; I have no trouble identifying Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I’m just never sure if it’s Tuesday. Wednesday or Thursday. Simply put, I am not operating at full power and these fleeting mental brownouts will last until a few days into the New Year. Adding to the disorientation is the “Sunday” factor – which means no matter which day of the week December 25 should happen to fall, Christmas Day will often feel like a Sunday. Is this because I associate Sunday with attending a church service? Perhaps. But it is likely the festive feast itself – the quintessential Sunday dinner with all the fixings is the reason that Christmas Day and Sunday are inextricably linked.

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One more thing: I have always thought that each day of the week has a particular “feel” and flows into the next with such strong identification that I almost never need to check a calendar to know what day it is. For example, from October through late spring, Saturday means looking forward to Hockey Night in Canada and another date with my beleaguered Maple Leafs. And no matter how my team fares the night before, Sunday mornings will always be a time to relax and enjoy another welcome day of rest.

Come Monday, I will have shifted back into work mode, provided I have been blessed with some sort of inspiration for this column. Failing that, I will be busy enough trying to come up with a credible excuse for filing late – itself a challenging exercise, as the dog can eat only so much paper.

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As I write these words it is Monday morning – just two days before New Year’s Eve but it still doesn’t feel like a Monday. And by the time you are reading this it will be 2026 – and I still won’t know what day-of-the-week it is. But at least we will be nearing the end of the Festive Haze. As always, the recovery period will be slow but steady as we strive to regain our calendar sense – the innate “feel” that allows us to pinpoint our precise location in the space-time continuum. So now as we prepare to leave those hazy, crazy days of the Holiday Season in the rear view mirror, allow me this opportunity to wish you all a very Happy and Healthy New Year.

Terry serves up a little food-for-thought each and every week and welcomes your comments: countrysunshine@xplornet.ca

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