For me, Christmastime is an annual learning event.
It used to be all about travel and family and large group drama. Or contrived religious observances that had little meaning or fascination for me. Or a mad dash around the shopping circus to identify, locate and acquire stuff. Or solitary—and yes, welcome—plunges into days-long alcohol binges.
Then one day, I said, “Fuck it. Christmas is whatever I want it to be.” And every year, while I feel the pull of family drama, or commercialism, or boozy solipsism, I get to learn this lesson all over again.
In other words, make your holiday holy to yourselves. Otherwise, don’t bother and just sleep in.