There’s a lot of pain in this world. It’s a miracle on par with walking on water that we even made it through 2018. Singing snowman, pretty evergreens, and red-nosed reindeers are something to ease that pain. Baby-Jesus almighty if I want to celebrate well into November to bring some joy into my hollow, cold life.
I shamefully listen to Christmas music incognito on a hidden tab, keep my holiday sweaters pressed but hidden in my closet, and bundle up my Target-dollar-section goodies poised and ready for some merry cheer. The build-up to Christmas is what makes it the best bangin’ birthday celebration of all-time. However, Thanksgiving hinders this extensive ho-ho-wholesome fun. Thanksgiving, however, does not sport the same fanfare. The most forethought I put into Thanksgiving is appeasing the family group chat long enough to scarf down mash potatoes and come back for finals. I am terribly blessed with amazing health, family, and friends, but the thing I am most thankful for during Thanksgiving is that Christmas is coming.
In America, Thanksgiving is this arbitrary third-Thursday holiday that serves as a hurdle we have have to clear before we deck the halls and roll out the Christmas festivities. I am thankful and lucky to be an American, don’t get me wrong, it’s a blessing and a curse I hold throughout the year. Being an American, waiting for Thanksgiving, however, should not limit the brevity of my Christmas happiness. I will be streaming Michael Bublé on my Spotify all week, and I don’t care who sees it on my Spotify.
— Jacqueline Lewis, Copy Chief