P and I aren’t going up to Portland this Christmas. We’d planned to, but the airfares are really high and it seems silly to spend so much getting up there when we were just there for Thanksgiving. Going in February makes a lot more sense.
A friend I told the other day commented “are you sad not to be going home for Christmas?” And I realized that while I am sad not to spend Christmas with my parents and grandparents, what it really means is that I am going to be home for the holidays. This apartment is P and my home and I love it. With all its quirks, including our crazy landlady, I wouldn’t trade it for anywhere else.
With that in mind, I’ve got to clear up the messes here so that we can put the tree up this weekend. That’s so exciting! The amount I love Christmas trees should be illegal.