introvert christmas

I wish I had more energy to enjoy the special moments — the way the children’s eyes light up, the warmth of family, the comfort of tradition — WITHOUT collapsing beneath the pressures of the holidays.

I wish I could replicate myself and have my clone do all the shopping and planning while I drink (vegan) egg nog and chill with my favorite humans.

I wish everything, and I mean everything, could be delivered to my doorstep, because it’s too damn peopley outside in December.

I wish I could wear pyjamas everywhere.

I wish small talk was illegal.

I wish I had an animal friend to cuddle when all the socializing gets unbearable.

I wish it was socially acceptable to read a book at a party.

I wish I didn’t always feel two steps behind and a million miles away from where I should be.

I wish more people were real and unfiltered.

I wish for more silence and less B.S.

I wish I could erase all my regrets from 2017, but keep the wisdom.

I wish I could be a mime for a while, except without the creepy makeup.

I wish I was as good at sneaking out of parties as Santa is at disappearing up the chimney.

I wish there was an app to become invisible whenever I feel awkward.

I wish my heart and my brain could find a less catastrophic way of communicating.

I wish Facebook and Instagram had more pictures of people looking rundown and disheveled, (like how I look right now) instead of all the photoshopped family Christmas photos.







Merry Christmas!