It’s that time again. Bachelor season. Now, I am definitely not one of those macho men who thinks all shows like this are “stupid” or “gay”. But, I do hate it. At least for the first five minutes. After that I start talking about the girls and how weird they are. They was a girl named “Shira” on there this time. Nikki was wondering why I laughed out loud at that name. This is why:Prince Adam eat your heart out. Wait, were they brother and sister? Oh, nevermind.
I’ve hit kind of a slump with lunches. For the past two days I have had Nutella on one slice of whole wheat bread, carrots, and something from my Christmas stash (i.e. buddy fruits, larabar, or clif bar). Thankfully Nikki is making vegetable soup today of which the leftovers will make good lunches.
When I am not obsessing about healthy eating and stupid things I have said I like to ponder important questions. Questions like: are fixed male dogs considered the eunuchs of the dog-verse? and if they are does that mean I don’t have to feel bad about calling Gawain that when he makes me mad? He just smiles and licks me either way.
The question I have been pondering lately is: do I possibly suffer from a very mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)? I have been reading up on the disorder and have found these symptoms:
- Increased appetite with weight gain (got me there)
- Increased sleep and daytime sleepiness (well, one of those two)
- Less energy and ability to concentrate in the afternoon (yeah, but that is probably from poor dietary choices)
- Loss of interest in work or other activities (there is not much interest to lose)
- Slow, sluggish, lethargic movement (I didn’t know there was another way to move)
Please remember that humor is the way I deal with things that make me uncomfortable and that I am not making light of this very serious and real disorder. I think I really do suffer from a version of this that is very mild. I would even call it CAD (Christmasal Affective Disorder). I really really get excited when Christmas comes around. Like I always did when I was a kid, I eagerly await the day and the season and all that it holds. I hate how even more commercialized it has become, even so much that we hear Christmas songs and see Christmas decorations the day after Halloween. Obviously, these stores aren’t very thankful. I start telling Nikki “I’m starting to feel it, honey, I’m starting to feel it!” The it is the Christmas spirit, of course. Once the day comes and the presents are opened, I start going down fast. I get really, well, depressed. I really don’t know why, it is like all the wonderful feelings come to a mountaintop and crash into each other like so many sexually aroused mountain goats (isn’t that when they fight each other?). Maybe this can be traced back to losses in the family that happened around Christmastime. When I was younger my great grandmother died right around Christmas. I didn’t know her very well, but we visited her often and my grandmother loved her so I did too. I didn’t like to see the pain on her face on Christmas day. A pain that came from wonderful memories. Isn’t it weird how the wonderful memories are the ones that make us the saddest?
A few years ago (right before my niece and nephew were born) that same grandmother died. Right around Christmas. That Christmas was amazing and awful. All of the family was together, and we mourned and cried and laughed and cried. That grandmother’s (my mother’s mother) house was where most of my great Christmas memories were made. True, I have great ones from all of the grandparent’s, but it was at Grandmama’s house that my brothers and I waited at the top of the stairs. It was in the corner there that the plastic Santa stood. It was there that my brothers and I made a hilarious video about a terrorist who wanted to kill Santa Claus. You know, I started this search because I thought I might have Seasonal Affective Disorder, but the truth of it is that I have just experienced great joy and great loss around Christmas, and thus associate that with the season. When I get right down to it, the truth of it is that I miss those Christmases. I still have wonderful Christmases, but they are hard to compare to Grandmama’s house and the smell of sausage balls and peanut butter candy. I know what the problem is.
I just really miss my Grandmama.