It’s not God. It’s not Jesus. It’s Money.
And that’s not a horrific thing. It’s an annoying thing if, like me, you dislike crowds and don’t particularly participate in Christmas.
But this is the season that feeds the Western Economy. Indeed, because of globalisation, it feeds the world economy. It’s the engine of spending that employs most of us in one way or another.
I find this idea that there is a war on Christmas amusing. The strongest power in the world is firmly entrenched in the idea of Christmas. The power of money. Christmas isn’t going anywhere.
Even today, most Christians have melded the holiness of the day with decorating, buying, cooking and commenting on people who say Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas.
But, sadly for those who still think it’s about religion, Money is all about leveraging for more money. And so it’s inclusive. It wants there to a gift giving Hanukkah and it wants Kwanza to be about gifts as well.
Mark my word – it wants Mawlid to be about gift giving too. Someone, somewhere is working on a way to change a festival for Mohammed’s Birthday into a retail bonanza. Christmas used to be a festival holiday too. Now it’s a season of shopping.
AND I bet if they pull it off, the division between Muslims who celebrate Mawlid and those who don’t will disappear. Because big business always trumps religion. ESPECIALLY if it can somehow leverage religion into it’s drumbeat.
100 years from now imagine the incredible booming economy that would exist if we could add in a gift exchange for 2 billion Muslims! Imagine if you gave it a nice unique set of colors and symbols that they would display each year, creating entire industries out of decorating for the holiday. Almost everyone benefits when the economy is booming.
of things to do when my brain is functional.
Inside my brain are a dozen or more nagging things I should do . Things that don’t get done because during the brain stillness, I function on a rail. I do the habits. I walk through the day by doing the next habit. I focus on conquering the small stuff.
But depression is not a static state and when it moves into the zone of normal I very often get less done than I should because I can’t really seem to put my thoughts into gear to get those nagging tasks done. I can’t remember them.
I think I need a list. It has to be on something easily accessible. So when the nagging thought shows up, I can put it immediately on my list. Thus removing it’s anxiety from my head.
And when I realize I am in functional normal mode, I can grab the list and do something I wouldn’t normally get done.
I also need the list to be already set up as a functional to-do. Ie – task broken into it’s component parts.
I will try to do it on one of my phone apps I think. Although I find writing things down easier, I no longer carry any pad of paper. I have a phone after-all.
But breaking down the task means it can’t be an app like Remember the Milk. It has to be a proper to do app. But that will be an additional electronic nagging rather than a place to put my nagging thought that safely removes it from the anxiety place until I can do it.
I think finding the right app might end up being the first thing on the to do list? Or at least figuring out how to make an easy app like Milk work for this.
Anyway – that is my current state of mind. I need more lists in my life. My brain is way to full of holes.
It has been approved by cat members of the household.
I got it quite cheaply compared to most of the cat trees you see, which was why I bought it. No doubt it’s not as high quality, but…
Anyway, I bought it online in a fit of kitten love. Then 24 hours later… it occurred to me to check how heavy the delivered box would be. 50lbs. Huh. OK. I can lift that I guess… Up two flights of steps. I guess.
Then it arrived. The box was very large. I was NOT going to be able to carry it. But I triumphed. I got out my two wheel cart, essential tool for all single people, tied the box to the cart and pulled that damn box up 2 flights of steps. And didn’t kill myself by falling head first down the stairs.
Now it’s a box in my living room. It’s still not a cat tree.
Apparently, cat trees don’t just happen when you open the box. ASSEMBLY IS REQUIRED.
Assembly has not shown up and the box been waiting since Tuesday.
Saturday – the traditional day to celebrate the Assembly is Required footnote. I think Assembly must show up today because the cats are currently entertaining themselves by stampeding through the apartment like buffalo.
Happy Cat Stampede is a sound that I personally enjoy, but it is my understanding that other people do not. And I am going to assume that the downstairs neighbor finds the cat stampede to be annoying.
Hopefully if we assemble this cat tree they will focus their play on the tree and do fewer stampedes at 6am.
I doubt it though. Maybe she’s deaf.
I strung lights around my front window. I’m rather proud of that step into normal behavior. I haven’t involved myself in Xmas since my mom died. But I feel more human and interested in making a pretty place for myself. So I pulled out a box of lights I bought in an after Xmas sale, with the vague idea of making some kind of decorative element for the bedroom.
Now I need to watch the kitten and how he treats them. He and Bijou were on the balcony while I put them up. It’s a beautiful sunny warm winter day and kitten hadn’t been out on the balcony much. Bijou supervised. NO GROWLS!!
But I think it was serendipitous because then they weren’t involved in putting up the lights and didn’t see them bouncing about like a toy.
You know. I really am a WHOLE lot better than I was 5 years ago. It’s been a long VERY slow slog that feels like nothing gets better. But it really does. And it has. I doubt I will ever be Mrs. Mental Health. But I’m getting to be Mrs. Mental OK Sometimes.
Maybe I will buy tiny tree too.
He is about 14 weeks give or take. I got him from a woman who runs an informal rescue out of her pet supply store. She can be counted on to have at least a few kittens and cats needing homes.
I introduced him to Bijou who is acting traditionally by hissing and growling as is prescribed by millennia of custom among cats.
Tim is not very impressed by her threats and has explored the entire apartment thoroughly, eaten a good dinner and now feels it is time for a cuddle.
BUT there will be NONE OF THAT. Boundaries have been laid and he is not allowed to get on the bed. Indeed, I have also gotten growled at for inviting him.
Tim and I are properly chastised. We might seek solace in the dining room. Where cranky pants calicos aren’t staking arbitrary claims to space.
I am hopeful that they will come to a completion of this cat meeting ritual sooner rather than later, if I just stay out of it. But it’s hard not to participate in having a new kitten!
But I got the kitten for Bijou, not for me. So. I will attempt… Probably unsuccessfully… not to lavish a ton of attention on the kitten.