I woke up stupid early on Christmas. Like at 5:15. I was the first one awake in the house. I was awake a whole hour and a half before I was felt it was a decent hour to wake anyone else up. Yes, I can't lie that I still get excited about Christmas, but I think I just couldn't sleep. Now that I've been gone from my parents house for so long it's strange being back and sleeping upstairs. If I stay out there for whatever reason, I typically crash on the couch. I just like it better. Christmas Eve night I couldn't be downstairs to disturb Santa doin' his thing, so I slept in the guest room upstairs. Being back upstairs just seems unnatural. I'm in a 'guest' room. Nothing is familiar. It's not even my old bedroom. None of my old furniture or things surround me up there. The sounds of the heat kicking on and off were even keeping me up. Don't get me wrong, I love being at home. I guess things are just different after moving out of my home for good.
I had a good Christmas this year. It was a white one! First one since '93. Pretty sure that's the Christmas the sliding door fell off our Astro van.
Cash! Nope, not Johnny. My Dad can be so sentimental :) Of course, my husband decided we would have a budget for each other this year...um...he stuck to the budget. I didn't. Somebody opened 7 gifts and somebody else opened 2. How 'bout that for gratitude?! My two gifts were lovely.
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