It happened again this year.
The realization that some holidays do not in fact take up an entire day occurs to me every year at 3pm on Thanksgiving.
My family and I enjoy a wonderful meal, converse, and revel in the company of one another. After awhile, we get a little tired, pack up the left-overs, and head to our respective homes.
As I walk into my apartment and start loading my refrigerator, I glance at the clock.
It's only three.
That means I have the entire day to myself.
Now, I won't say this isn't an enjoyable experience, but to be honest, it's hard for me to spend a holiday doing nothing.
After all, I'm already wired from so much social and culinary exposure, and I'm dressed up, so it seems silly to just hang around the house and do nothing.
I'm always tempted to call my friends and see if they want to do something, but then I think--Well, I shouldn't. It's a holiday.
Inevitably, however, I break down and do it. The response I get always surprises me.
Everyone I know is as bored as I am.
Excellent, I think, I get to spend time with family and friends on this day of thanks. How perfect.
Then we all realize that nothing's open.
The post-Thanksgiving problem continues.
Thanksgiving isn't the only time of year when this happens. Sometimes it feels like certain holidays are built up so much that we forget how little there is to them.
Holidays like Easter and Thanksgiving are built around meals. Once the meal is over--and some family bonding over dessert--the holiday is pretty much over. It's not like Christmas, which can be stretched out for days with gift opening and old home video watching, or Mother's Day, where you spend hours listening to your mother talk about the places you should have taken her to eat.
In all actuality, Thanksgiving isn't really a holiday. It's a holi-half-a-day.
Part of me thinks that all those people waiting in line outside stores at 9pm aren't all that crazy or greedy for good deals.
They're probably just looking for something to do.
The realization that some holidays do not in fact take up an entire day occurs to me every year at 3pm on Thanksgiving.
My family and I enjoy a wonderful meal, converse, and revel in the company of one another. After awhile, we get a little tired, pack up the left-overs, and head to our respective homes.
As I walk into my apartment and start loading my refrigerator, I glance at the clock.
It's only three.
That means I have the entire day to myself.
Now, I won't say this isn't an enjoyable experience, but to be honest, it's hard for me to spend a holiday doing nothing.
After all, I'm already wired from so much social and culinary exposure, and I'm dressed up, so it seems silly to just hang around the house and do nothing.
I'm always tempted to call my friends and see if they want to do something, but then I think--Well, I shouldn't. It's a holiday.
Inevitably, however, I break down and do it. The response I get always surprises me.
Everyone I know is as bored as I am.
Excellent, I think, I get to spend time with family and friends on this day of thanks. How perfect.
Then we all realize that nothing's open.
The post-Thanksgiving problem continues.
Thanksgiving isn't the only time of year when this happens. Sometimes it feels like certain holidays are built up so much that we forget how little there is to them.
Holidays like Easter and Thanksgiving are built around meals. Once the meal is over--and some family bonding over dessert--the holiday is pretty much over. It's not like Christmas, which can be stretched out for days with gift opening and old home video watching, or Mother's Day, where you spend hours listening to your mother talk about the places you should have taken her to eat.
In all actuality, Thanksgiving isn't really a holiday. It's a holi-half-a-day.
Part of me thinks that all those people waiting in line outside stores at 9pm aren't all that crazy or greedy for good deals.
They're probably just looking for something to do.
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