C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S Decorating day.
The house has been cleaned, scoured, dusted, shined and vacuumed to within an inch of it's life.
I've lugged the Christmas decoration boxes inside, and later I will pull them one by one out of the dining room and begin unpacking all the treasures, all the memories, all the newly acquired Christmas Junk and attack the house with the frenzy of a masculine Martha Stewart on Christmas Crack.
I'll break for lunch sometime around 1-1:30 but it will be a light meal because I'll have snacked on the mountain of Christmas Cookies I've been preparing for goody boxes and party favors.
The house will be finished around 5 and I'll succumb to my own diabetic infused coma for around an hour....then order pizza.
The house will shine, and wait with baited angel hair for the party next sunday when relatives in and out of state will descend en masse for a family holiday party which we haven't held for the better part of a decade. Who knew so many would say "Yes" so fast when I called them? However during the lull before the familial storm, we will enjoy the house in the quiet solitude of overdecorated brilliance.
Such is the life of gay men during the holidays.