Published December 25, 2024 

Holidays haven’t been holidays for me since early in my journalism career. When you put out a paper every day and the news doesn’t stop, the days all start to blend together. Then someone brings you a dinner to heat up and you remember.

Oh, right. It’s Christmas.

Twenty years ago today, I dared travel from Baton Rouge to Lake Charles to spend the day at my mom’s house before flying to Orlando the next morning for a week at the Capital One Bowl, but Nick Saban had other plans. He was leaving LSU for the NFL after all. So I had to hustle back for a full evening of coverage (and stay up all night) before heading to the airport in New Orleans.

Thanks, Saint Nick. Owe you one.

(When we got to our hotel rooms in Orlando, we turned on CNN and saw video of the tsunami in the Indian Ocean. I thought the world was ending.)

This year, Dec. 25 is Wednesday. Just Wednesday. As usual, a holiday showed up with me unprepared, but with a special twist. I have no food in my apartment, and no idea if I’ll be able to find any today.

I haven’t worked since Nov. 3, and I’ve slept between 12 and 16 hours every day for more than a month. That and other medical and mental health factors have done a number on my ADHD brain. My three days this week on liquids only, no solid food, ended with my apartment devoid of anything to munch, by design, and with no provisions for afterward.

So after 3 this morning I trudged downstairs to the vending machine across the hall from the laundry room and decided to buy cheese crackers and a soda.

But the bag got stuck.

“A good metaphor for my life lately,” I said in the predawn quiet.

But wait. There’s more.

I went back upstairs and got more quarters. I did have the foresight to get quarters Monday, for laundry, so I have plenty.

“I’ll buy the same thing, and that bag will bring down the other bag, and I’ll have both for today,” I thought.

Nope.

See the first one down there? It dropped, yes, but the new purchase was otherwise in vain. That bag took its place in the stuck position.

With the first one and the second one there, my brain did what it does.

“And the first one said to the second one there, I hope you’re having fun.”

I had more quarters with me. “Let’s see if the Cheez-Its have magic in them.”

One more press of 7.

“An even better metaphor for my life lately,” I said, to no one there.

Lucked my way into some nuts. Saving the crackers for later.

I left the remaining three quarters I had in my hand in the laundry room. Someone should have some good luck today.

When all else fails, put on some music

I’ve made no secret of my break from my churchy past, especially with the Catholic Church (and the Catholic six SCOTUS justices) making my existence as a trans woman so tenuous.

But every now and then I take comfort in some of the songs I played on guitar and sang at Mass way back when, including Christmas midnight Mass. Some of them are beautiful, and I still remember every chord and word.

This one always gets me.

“A time will come for singing when all your tears are shed.”

Some of the language could probably use updating, but the song always leaves me wishing for everyone to be relieved of their burdens.

We don’t need “the Lord,” mentioned in the song, for us to demand that men lay down their armor and hammer their swords into ploughs, to repair the wealth disparity, to work to mend broken hearts. I wait for the day when hatred grows old.

We have everything we need to fix this world. We just choose not to.

I am writing about the men (and the women who prop up their power) who protect the systems that sustain the pain of so many. You will read those words someday soon.

Going back to sleep now. It’s pretty much all I do now. This kind of healing takes time.

Sending love and hope for peace. Happy Wednesday, and whatever else it is for you.

♥

If you appreciate what you find here and are feeling generous, you can check out the Tip Jar. Thank you for reading. Here’s a butterfly for you.

/”””””\  \  /  /”””””\
\   0   \(  )/   0   /
>       l l       <
/    o   l l   o    \
\,,,,,,,,,/v\,,,,,,,,,/