| Website | https://jackheathwriter.com |
| Location | Ngunnawal/Ngambri country |
Jack Heath
- 79 Followers
- 61 Following
- 178 Posts
Award-winning author of The Wife Swap (and 40 other books, translated into 10 languages).
@MichaelPryor Wow! Congrats? Or is it some kind of book marketing?
@pepper1700 Apologies for the obvious answer, but I kinda love my Kindle. The WhisperSync feature is especially great. (Having said that, I also love my local bookstore, and my local library, and audiobooks, and pretty much anything that's a book. So being loved by me is a low bar to clear.)
We watched a turtle lay eggs and swim away. Then we dug up the eggs and hand-delivered them to a safer nest. It was magical.
Even more magically, I could read again. For months I'd been so stressed that my eyes blurred and my brain couldn't turn the words into meaning. I'd drag myself through about one book per month by sheer bloody-mindedness, because if I didn't read, then who the hell was I? But once Christmas day was over, I was relaxed enough to read three books in a single week.
Let's just add some more guilt to the pile, shall we? "I'm trying my best!" I snapped at my wife, when she pointed out that I'd left the fruit salad at home.
However.
Much like a wedding, the day itself was a lot of fun. After the food had been eaten, the presents unwrapped, the police called, the missing five-year-old located, the police dismissed, I started to wonder what on Earth I'd been so worried about.
And then I went to Queensland with Venetia and the kids.
Plus, the law of diminishing returns suggests that if you get several gifts at once, the value of each goes down a little bit. Whose idea was it that everyone in the country should buy a gift for everyone else they know, all on the same day? And what right to I have to complain about any of this, when I'm one of the few people on Earth who isn't currently at risk of losing their home to poverty, a rising tide or a missile?
In leadup to December 25, I can often be found slowly yet frantically driving around and around a crowded shopping centre car park, grumbling to myself about being expected to pay $30 for a gift that's surely only worth $20 to the recipient, because I don't have a clue what they want, and I can't ask, because then they'll expect me to get that specific thing, which may be hard to find or unaffordable or both, and even in the best case scenario it won't seem thoughtful or be a surprise.
I feel the same way about Christmas Day as I do about weddings. In both cases, it's an opportunity to spend time with my friends and family, but turning that into an EVENT—with a menu, a seating plan, a gift registry and so forth—is a nerve-shredding experience.
Is anyone likely to double up? Are both children getting the same number of gifts? Are the gifts of similar percieved value? How can I find the answers to these questions when I can't even hear myself think over the carols and the shouting? "What do you want for Christmas?" some well-meaning loved one would ask me. I just want it to be over! Grinch-Jack would reply, in his head, while meekly mumbling, "I don't know. I'll think about it." (Which I then didn't do.)
It's been seven years since I quit my day job, and I still haven't shaken off the dread that starts building in mid-October every year. Maybe it'll linger for the rest of my life.
And now I have children, so the preparations are a lot more complex and come with a significant wallop of both deception ("Santa's watching! The elf has moved!") and guilt ("Are you having a happy childhood??") All the grandparents want to know what the children do and don't like. Have we given them an answer?
In my late twenties and early thirties I had a job in retail, so I had slightly more money (and a staff discount!) but the season was stressful for a different reason. More shifts, longer shifts, impatient customers, frazzled coworkers. A shop so filled with stock that there's nowhere to put anything, and yet we never seemed to have whatever specific thing the customer was looking for.