Holding melting snowflakes: A reflection on Christmas Eve in 2020
Christmas Eve. The one day of the year I am never prepared for. What do you even do on Christmas Eve? The day goes by faster than one can say eggnog. It often feels as though the festive period does so too, but Christmas Eve seems to be the fastest as it’s the first one out of the gate. In this piece, I want to talk about the holiday period and why, for me, it mostly sucks.
It is impossible to deny that time feels different. We are living life in a hamster wheel on steroids. This is 2020. The new age of virtual zoom meetings, social distancing, and masks being a part of our daily attire. Sleep schedules, routines and to-do lists have all become muddled messes. Most of us have experienced phases of daily burnouts and manic productivity. Or periods of what I like to call: “John Green” moments (staring at the ceiling at 2am thinking profoundly about life). However, unlike more normal years, these bursts of emotion and rapid changes in behaviour can happen within the space of a few short minutes.
We are living life in a hamster wheel on steroids.
Our world has become less focused on the monotony of the day-to-day. And yet, we find ourselves clinging to any semblance of that normalcy. In our ever-growing boredom of quarantines, local lockdowns, travel-bans, confusing concrete-ish guidelines we have been in a state of peril. Not to mention, the dreaded never-ending tier system that seems more like a comedy sketch than a real, very very real, problem. The horse has been beaten to death. And I have no will power left in me to rant about how ill our governments have served us.
The thing is, this year seems to have gone by in the blink of an eye. A painfully slow blink of an eye. I vividly remember losing my mind about 3 weeks into lockdown, when the memes had plateaued and then swiftly descended into an unusual meta-abyss. The realisation that lockdown was probably going to outweigh the initial 3 weeks had sunk in. The glow of Tiger King and Joe Exotic was snuffed out fairly quickly. The laughter provided by Tik Tok dance routines eclipsed by the growing trepidation of being stuck inside. We had nothing else to keep up our daily fix of binge-able, mindless entertainment but mocking celebrities out-of-touch responses. Remember the bad singing?
The thing is, this year seems to have gone by in the blink of an eye. A painfully slow blink of an eye.
Our viewership of Netflix reached soaring heights, but life after the March madness seemed to be desperate to grasp onto a new normal. We were too far away from our pre-pandemic lives but had yet to really have that reality sink in. Those who tried to return to their old lives seemed to jump back into the Roaring ’20s, with reports showing people slept less and socialised more than ever. Regressive patterns emerged once again and forced strain onto the already splitting sides of our healthcare systems. The Test and Trace system was pretty much a bust, though millions had been poured into it. The testing centres seemed like it’d take Indiana Jones to find you an available slot. And to top it all off, we had the clapping. The dreaded, dreaded, clapping. I still have nightmares of the clock striking 3pm and people aimlessly smashing their sanitised hands together at the sky. As if to thank aliens for giving more work to our NHS staff.
The year seemed to be on a downhill rollercoaster of delusion, and it didn’t seem like any of us could get off the ride. And let’s not forget, the slew of cancelled summer events that people mourned — R.I.P Summer-Love Island you were sorely missed this year.
Our lives weren’t made any better after the second lockdown either, with misinformation, miscommunication and mixed messages being spread online faster than Covid itself. Less than a month ago we were freed from the endless lockdown industrial-complex only to be walked right back into the uncertainty of the year’s end. The “2021 is my year” memes have already started to be pre-mocked and defaced with the growing knowledge and prospect of 2021 also beginning with lockdowns and restrictions.
Though many have taken it upon themselves to make this festive period the best they can. Through virtual zooms to family members of other households. My friends and I actually threw my very first Friendmas for me (it wasn’t really for me but I’m telling the story so it was definitely for me). We shared presents, watched more Chritsmas films than I have fingers and gorged on pre-made stuffing forcing us to change into pyjamas. In many ways, it was to cushion the blow that the real Christmas likely won’t feature as much holly jolly joy and laughter. Like my friends, a lot of people stopped at nothing to make their houses look like Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and Rudolph all simultaneously vomited on them.
I am being entirely too cynical about all of this, I know. But I wasn’t always a Grinch, pinky promise!
I think I realised we were all done for when it would be Christmas miracle if Royal Mail delivered international gifts again. Yep, this year is pretty bleak. Though Mariah’s Magical Christmas Special on Apple Tv did have me fooled a tiny bit. I drank hot chocolate with little marshmallows and forgot about the world outside of candy canes and vocal runs. Then reality reared its ugly head. Unfortunately, I don’t feel the magic of Christmas is possible to grasp this year.
I, for one, never really look forward to this time of year. Christmas is never my favourite holiday and I never really feel the spirit reaches me. The years pass on and I wait for the lights to be ripped from the street poles and my advent calendar to be another piece of cardboard that I don’t recycle. As I’ve gotten older, and more existential crises flooded in, I haven’t had the best relationship towards the holidays. Last year, I spent most of it ill with the flu, one bad customer away from having a rampage, still working for just over £6 an hour. A glittery jingle ball in the face to me that I’ve grown up to be more like Squidward than Spongebob, so I quit.
The years pass on and I wait for the lights to be ripped from the street poles and my advent calendar to be another piece of cardboard that I don’t recycle.
I don’t even have a job to quit now but I feel like I’ve handed in the longest resignation letter ever. It’s addressed to 2020 and I am DONE. Christmas Eve is always a weird time of the year, as I said before. I’m over it though. Usually, the excitement of Christmas overshadows the day and it creeps up on majority of us. Today it feels like any other day, I am in bed writing for the first time in months. I think we’ve collectively felt disconnected from the things that bring us joy. While we can’t do everything we want, Christmas Eve is not a bad place to at least celebrate in the ways that feel best for us.
If there’s anything this year has taught me its to expect the unexpected. This year has been brutal. I, persoanlly, didn’t think it could get worse than the killer bees arc. I feel like I can take on anything including the Total Wipepout course, but I didn’t need a pandemic to teach me that. A lot of us are resiliant and if anything making it to this part of the year shows that. The rug can and has been pulled out from our feet multiple times. Most of us have a new lease of life, though it’s stifled by restrictions, fear and a general foggy sense that we don’t know what’s next. Many plans have gone bust including the infamously meticulous festive season. We have also lost a lot more than just Christmas joy this year, some more than others. I honestly don’t think I’ve had a worse year than this. I’ve faced more trauma and turmoil than I thought I’d ever be able to and never expected to. The future appears more murky than merry. This year has not been easy on anyone, and the idea of what’s next is frightening.
From I’ve learned the most important thing is to stay as connected, present and comfortable as you possibly can. If that means blasting your friends’ group chat with memes every day just to get laughing emojis then do it. If you have to Netflix party of your favourite Xmas films or seldom crying at the turtle doves scene in Home Alone 2 for the 5th time of the week in bed (like me), go ahead! If your Christmas festivities call for laughter and you watch Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas to feel again, then we are kindred spirits. Even if it means dancing in the shower to Michael Bublé’s biggest Christmas hits then do it!!!!
Be as happy and as full of joy as you possibly can! If we can’t have Christmas spirit fed to us on this capitalist wet-dream of a holiday, at least we can try to make it one for ourselves and our loved ones.
Who knows? Maybe we’ll experience snow before lockdown 3.
