Why This Atheist Loves Christmas
A heathen’s guide to the most wonderful time of the year
I love Christmas. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year. The Christmas season officially (or unofficially?) begins on Black Friday, and that’s precisely when my Christmas spirit kicks into gear.
It then lasts until New Year’s Day, when we collectively rise at noon with a head-pounding hangover and our underwear on backward to start considering when to throw out the tree.
This might not be my underwear…I need some coffee…and nine Advil.
I even love the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day.
Those lazy days of sugar-induced confusion that you spend in your pajama bottoms eating cookies with green sprinkles for lunch — beseeching yourself that the diet starts promptly on January 1.
You’re never quite sure what day (or time) it is, but we all get a free pass because no one else knows.
It’s the black hole of the calendar year — and pure bliss with an old tin of fresh snicker-doodles and a glass of cold milk.
