Last week I started writing our Christmas cards because it always takes me a long time to finish.  In contrast, Devon usually can finish his in two hours.  To prepare, I looked for Christmas labels, found the Christmas cards, picked a nice pen, setup a little writing area near my indented couch cushion, retrieved my address book and got a roll of stamps.  Throughout the week, I wrote nice little messages in many of the cards, systematically going through the alphabetized list in my address book.  On Saturday, after setting up the Christmas tree, putting other decorations around the house, hanging the stockings and stapling lights to our house, Devon and I sat down together to work on the Christmas cards.  I started a related – not to be mentioned at this time – project; Devon wrote cards according to a convenient computer spreadsheet I found listing the people we sent cards to last year.  About three hours later, we finally finished.  Well, not quite, since we ran out of cards.  But we finished for the day.

On Monday, I showed up at work with cards in hand, expecting to find a card and pack of peanut brittle on my chair.  That might sound funny to you, but this is an expecting tradition that my co-worker began years ago.  She has always been the first to distribute Christmas cards.  I looked around other people’s desk, then contacted her assistant.  My co-worker was not coming to work Monday. I win!  Not that I was competing, but she had always been first and I expected this as fact.  It was a nice feeling of pride to accomplish the goal in a timely manner.