Ah...the holidays.
I always get in a funk around the holidays. I've learned the best way to get through is to PLAN A THOUSAND ACTIVITIES SO I'M TOTALLY EXHAUSTED AND THERE IS NOT ONE SECOND OF DOWN TIME. A tired brain is a non-ruminating brain.
Which is why I agree to anything my family wants to do (see: Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, from which we just returned and for which I will have to write a separate post). To wit:
In our area, there is a small historic building that rents its space to a home decor boutique every year. I went one time and while it is nice and beautifully merchandised and laid out, I do not share the rustic "live - love - laugh" aesthetic - so I assumed the one time I visited would be the only time.
But this weekend, as I was driving by with my daughter and she saw signs posted for the event, she asked if we could go. I agreed, and we parked and made our way into the building. And right into a wall of stink. I don't know if someone had just used the one restroom in the tiny, historic building, or if there was a plumbing issue, but the entire place smelled like sewage...
...and not in the good way.
We spent exactly 20 seconds inside - as long as it took to walk in one door and out the other.
I mean, the place is lousy with holiday-scented candles and potpourri - why wasn't EVERY SINGLE one of these things working overtime? We cannot be the only people who noticed this?
Based on my current mood, I like to imagine this as a metaphor for the holidays,
Brutalism
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