I woke up this morning and the first thing I thought was, “I don’t have to write a novel today.” And then I smiled. Instead my project this weekend is turning my bedroom into a painting studio, and moving my bed… elsewhere.
There are little specks of snow drifting to the ground as I type this, and I’m reminded that it is December, and of all winter months December is the least depressing, so let’s rejoice! Tomorrow is the first Sunday of Advent, and I’d like to have the right mindset about it this year, maybe for the first time, one of waiting, anxiously and hopefully, for that what has been promised. Good grief, can you imagine? A savior!
I’ve been listening to the Sufjan Stevens Christmas collection, since it is the only Christmas music I own but also because it is just so good. We probably won’t decorate at our apartment–we are Scrooges in that way–but the heart will be there. I am a secret Santa at work, and I’d like to make something creative, little clay elves or something, but since all of my coworkers know me as somewhat of an artist that would probably give me away. How does Santa do it??
By this time the streets outside are covered with a layer of snow. I hope everyone remembers how to drive. I hope I do!