I dread the Christmas season, and it’s not just because of the four-month overemphasis on organized religion. The latter half of November and the entirety of December mean horrendous traffic, last-minute shopping, and a surge in reunions and social gatherings that act more as figurative pissing contests than as genuine opportunities for warm, well-meaning and in-depth conversations.
But I don’t hate everything about it. I like the gift-giving part, and I love seeing people I love. And I love the food. Oh, the food. It’s the best excuse to let it all go and indulge, although we all know we shouldn’t.