The Domestic Saturation Point

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Every December, I briefly morph into Martha Stewart. I get caught up in the decorating and the bargain hunting. I bake cookies, which isn't really my thing. I'm a much better cook than a baker. All this domesticity lasts about two weeks, and then I begin to question whether this is the best use of my time. Shouldn't I be following that lead that I have for publication? Aren't there world problems that I should be tracking?

I reached that domestic saturation point yesterday afternoon, which is a little early. I still need to cook up a fishy feast for Christmas Eve and get the home tidied up for the in-laws. I know I don't have enough little things for the boys' stockings. Must soldier on.

Yesterday, I packaged up gifts for the aunties and uncles in Florida, Ohio, and Illinois. Homemade cookies were sealed up in wax paper and little chocolates were tucked into festive tin planters from IKEA. (Frango's are half price at Macy's right now.) I hope they like them.

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