December 23

I would describe my work motivation levels as low to very low. Who comes to the library the week preceding Christmas? Not very many people (my grandpa would add, 'Believe you me!').

Jason and I depart for Canmore tonight. I still have to (1) shower, (2) pack, (3) empty the trunk of my car and (4) load the blurry car with all the blurry gifts, etc.

Christmas shopping in my family is a consumeristic nightmare. I always exit Christmas feeling like I've eaten too much junk food: literally, but I'm talking figuratively right now. I don't like it. But I do like it.

More precisely, I'm embarrassed by it. The thought of Jason witnessing the spectacle of excess that is my family's approach to gift-giving is totally humbling. I had hoped that the sceptre of an outside viewer might excite sufficient shame to actually motivate us not to go overboard, the way we vow not to every year. I've spent the last few weeks trying to prepare Jason and protect my family ('I know it looks a lot like materialism, but actually it's not quite materialistic because I swear our values aren't totally fucked! Really! We know the spirit of togetherness and thankfulness and practice a suitably progressive, semi-irreligious Christmas giving of thanks and showing of togetherness! Please like them -- they're my family.')

Aside from Caligulan gift-giving excess, however, we do some really fun stuff. Namely sitting around, reading, watching movies, playing the occasional card game. I've been running so fast this week I'm looking forward to Canmore as an opportunity to just sit still.