No More Black Fridays

I used to feel pre-weariness when came the Christmas season. Black Friday meant drowning myself into shopping and finding decent presents under a budget that is neither Donald Trump’s nor the Kardashian’s. In other words, Black Friday was just that —too annoyingly dark. But work would not stop there.  Getting the decorations ready inside and out, if fun, would subversively add to the fatigue. On Christmas Day, when others were relaxing, I, like many women, would be cooking. Hell, I thought, the Christmas of most women actually comes after Christmas.



So this year I have changed the formula. Pierre and I will be traveling, letting restaurants feed us and the sun give us comfort and joy. Key West, a combo of fun and culture (Hemingway’s home, after all), will be our destination. I’ll let you know later if this was the right choice.