Does It Feel Like Christmas?

That's me relaxing on my new sofa-bed from IKEA, a product of hours of bad breaking labour and loads of cussing. Haven't been able to concentrate the past week, due to my allergies and ill health in general. By now the eyelid swelling's gone down, and I've finally finished the course of yucky meds. I can finally put away the strung out heroin-chic look I've been sporting lately thanks to said meds. And not too soon, since tomorrow night's our office Christmas party! Nothing says Christmas to me like the obligatory Christmas party, and the bleary retrospection the morning after when you wonder if the boss will remember your crude singalong about his private bits. Last year someone managed to vomit on everyone's dessert - here's hoping this year isn't my comeuppance!

Speaking of Christmas, I generally don't celebrate it. True, I hand out the presents to what little friends I have left and send greeting cards/ring them with a short message. Family's everything else but Christian, so we don't get together around this time to celebrate anything. And I never really have the sense of this Christmas spirit. Whenever I catch the ending of 'It's A Wonderful Life' I think, wow, Christmas can be like that? This year however, I've been the recipient of the kindness of strangers, twice. ember999 was kind enough to send me two aromatherapy formulations to help with my itchy eczema skin, and I barely even knew her other than from Nano. With all that she's endured, I am absolutely floored by the fact that she cares. And the night I went to IKEA to pick up the sofabed, this kind gentleman came over and helped me cart the large frame into my smallish sedan. I had seen him about a few cars away in the dark parking lot, efficiently packing his packages into the car. Meanwhile, I struggled with lifting the heavy metal frame with me skinny arms. Then out of nowhere, he swooped in and helped me jam in the cardboard box in the boot. Then we rolled down a window and chucked in the mattress. I was absolutely gobsmacked that he took the time to make sure everything was tied up in place. Before I could ask his name or say anything more, he wished me happy christmas and left.

It's really enough to make me believe in people again, it really does. And I really wish I could pay these two back somehow. Or perhaps, it would do to replicate such kindness and pass it on to others?