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What about Turkey?

Day before Thanksgiving and I’m not feeling all that grateful.

Cleaning like the Queen of England is coming to visit, no rest, no texts with twin, Mom a prowling and playing the German general role. You know, the usual “day-before-Thanksgiving-rampage”.

Why is it that all of us have to trample each other at Costco just to stuff ourselves with twenty four pound turkey’s and pumpkin pie to give thanks and be grateful?

We should be counting our blessings and be grateful every day. I admit, I don’t even do that much every day. I’m not perfect. (You’re not perfect either, so don’t be sitting there saying, “But, I do!”. You know you don’t do it every minute of every day unless you’ve gone through some epiphany or something.)

Ever since in flew into the early teens, Thanksgiving becomes less of a “Let’s-eat-there-is-no-school-holiday” to more of a “We-have-a-fall-cleaning” holiday.

Turkey is soaking in herbs and lemon while my mind is soaked in worry if I’m going to get my phone back.

Yep. Thanksgiving eve is a day of grounding. Turkey with cranberries doesn’t necessarily cleanse your mind of the thought that your friend is sitting somewhere in Sedona wondering why you haven’t responded to the eighty+ texts on your phone reading, “Are you ok, chica?”

Sweet potatoes sit in the fruit bowl while I’m scrambling to finish Geometry homework. Might as well count my blessings with this complicated formulas…. Or not. Time to clean my room apparently (despite not a pumpkin pie guzzling soul except for me is going to set foot in there).

Dining room is decorated with plated and cups with little plump turkeys, all to be witness to one of their brethren become craved and eaten tomorrow. I can imagine little beady eyes watching in horror as they stare at their roasted friend, not being able to react from their cemented place in the porcelain.

Dust the table and set up the candle stick holders. I hate doing this. I hate doing this every year. Wait, now I have to get rid of all these old CDs? Pick a few: Andrea Bocelli, Manà, Josh Groban. Hide them and get rid of the rest. Resort to watching the pumpkin pie get stuffed into the fridge while the floors are mopped.

I can[‘t think if I can even bother to count my blessings right now in this place. I have too many on my mind. Better make a list late to review every day after the holiday. I better find my first few for the Thanksgiving blessing I’m stating for the fifth year in a row tomorrow night.

I hum 3OH!3 while dumping out recycled contents into the bin. The concert from the night before is putting familiar catchy tunes on repeat. Wait, turn inner mind radio off in order to hear my aunt tell me to go into another room while she mops. Go back inside and sit down for once to write out my thoughts.

“The day before Thanksgiving and I don’t feel all that grateful”



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