Cards, stamps, photos of kids, newsletters filled with this past year's happenings...
Every day I walk past the stack, pause, and think of something else I can do that will take up my entire day and leave me no time for the inevitable hand cramp. While every night I lay in bed guilt-ridden for not getting them out yet.
I'm not the only one. The only cards I have so far received have been from my mother and my mother-in-law. Usually by now the wall is filled with jolly photos and religious quotes, interspersed with photos of babies and inappropriate Santa cartoons.
Is everyone waiting to see if the Mayans were right?
Yesterday, instead of having my hated braces removed from my teeth as anticipated, I got something akin to car tire snow chains stretched across my mouth. The pain has been horrific.
I'd like to use that as my excuse to avoid a job that somehow falls to me and only me every single year, but in truth I can do little more than sit without pain so I might as well tackle this dreaded task.
Afterward, I know I will feel the weight lift from my shoulders and know this was the last of my Christmas "chores" and maybe I can sit back and enjoy the rest of the season, but I really don't want to do this!
Maybe the floors need deep steam-cleaning....