I love you, but you aren't getting a Christmas card. I'm sorry, but I'm not sorry. I hated buying a gross of the damned things, shoehorning the time between shopping and wrapping to write a personal message in each one. I was incapable of just writing "love, The Knoxes" 50 times because it was torture. Like lines at school. Back then, I'd get about 30 cards per season.
Then I moved on to sending a quick card after receiving one. Not such a great idea when 9 times out of 10 they'd arrive after the holiday. Those years I got 10-15 on average.
Today I opened my mailbox to a card. From the Mayor. Yesterday I got one from our real estate agent. These days I get 2 or three personal cards, tops.
I love getting Christmas cards. I really do. But for that you have to mail them out. What with the cost of postage nowadays, it can cost a fortune to do it, too. So it's not worth it for the tiny rush of joy that I get when I open my mailbox to something other than a bill. So don't worry about sending one to me and I won't feel guilty about shafting you. Oh, the spirit of Christmas is at work, isn't it?
Jen's Gems: I Lost It At "Welcome Home"
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