I Need a Full Month Off for Christmas Vacation so That I Can Embark on a Hallmark Holiday Movie Storyline

*Slams laptop shut until I find rom-com-level love.*

Hi all,

I hope this finds you well and in the holiday spirit — that you’ve got plenty of festive plans for the most wonderful time of the year. And will be taking some much-needed and well-deserved PTO.

Because I sure am.

The entire month, in fact. Finally cashing in all those days I’ve been rolling over and banking for a wedding and honeymoon to instead embark on a lengthy sojourn to my homeland, where I will bunk up with my family, setting up shop in my childhood bedroom where I will sleep on a twin-sized bed for the majority of the month even though I haven’t spent more than a few consecutive days on the ole’ ranch since college winter breaks, and there is only one bathroom for everyone to share.

It’s gonna be super quaint and I can’t wait. The seven bags I need to sustain a trip of so many days are packed, and I’m ready to go. I hit the long road tomorrow and you better believe I’ll be listening on repeat to the stellar Spotify “Holiday Bangers” playlist that Jared so graciously curated and circulated just before Thanksgiving.

(Jared, I hope you don’t mind but you did made it editable, so I took that as an invitation to improve it, adding “Fairytale of New York” by The Pogues, but the version that has edited out that one word that would be wildly inappropriate to have on a playlist you openly share with your colleagues. Threw Adam Sandler’s “The Chanukah Song” on there as well, because not all of us on the team are gentiles and I think it’s pertinent to be inclusive. I should probably offline this next part but I don’t want to forget to remind you that when people access this list they can view the rest of your Spotify profile and that means they can see that you have also made a playlist entitled “Boner Jams.” Just an FYI.)

You may be wondering just what the heck happened to my initial Christmastime plan to sweep Amelia off her feet and on over to Turks and Caicos, where I would ask for her hand in marriage. I know I’ve been talking about it ad nauseam since July, which was when I first hatched that plot and put the perfect ring on layaway — but, yeah, that’s no longer happening.

Didn’t really feel like popping the question once some errant iMessages intended for her that were of an extremely graphic and jarring variety popped up on our shared iPad. Sent from the accountant who does our taxes. Used to do our taxes, I guess. Probably won’t be using him next year, even though he did manage to snag me a pretty sizable refund in ’24. So if anyone has someone they like and really trust — trust is absolutely key, I can’t state that strongly enough — I’d love any recommendations.

A few short weeks ago I did not think I would be able to muster many tidings of comfort and joy this year. But I’m actively attempting to greet the season with some optimism, and am ready to commence the healing process. My therapist told me getting out of town for a while might help, and when I pointed out that going to T and C solo would be at least slightly depressing, he suggested traveling instead to somewhere I could be with loved ones.

So, homeward my weary bones go.

Initially, I was only going to be in town for four days. A palatable long weekend. But I’ve been summoned sooner to the land of my origin. The Prodigal Son has a chance to become something of a savior.

How?

I’m gonna run the annual town Christmas Spectacular. It’s a big deal. Brings the whole population together for a very special night. People start looking forward to it on, like, January 1.

Why?

I’m deft with a pen and production and they need a new script and director for said Spectacular, which is reinvented with a new storyline every year. It’s generally the task of Mrs. Drobbins, the town’s English and Theater teacher. But she’s on the bench for the foreseeable future with a gnarly case of the Shingles.

Couldn’t someone else do it?

Theoretically. But my mom, the school superintendent, asked me to do it as a personal favor because there are few scribes in town and they were unable to drum up any interest from someone else who felt compelled to take the helm. Who is currently allowed within a certain distance of the school, anyway.

It’s probably more because she misses me, though, and has been on my case for years to visit more often.

Additionally, she has let drop that the high school love of my life, the teenage apple of my eye — who I haven’t seen in more than 15 years (aside from diligent social media stalking which has not recently shown any signs that she’s in a relationship, so I have that going for me, which is nice) but still dream about rather regularly if I’m being honest — just happens to be in charge of costume and set design.

I’ll let you guess which of these reasons really moved the needle when it came to making my decision.

So yeah, I’ve got this plan to win her back. Gonna win her back good, for good.

This will be an extremely memorable cuffing season if I play my cards right.

But, you know, these things don’t happen in the span of a long weekend. Just like greatness doesn’t always occur from 9 to 5.

Which is why I need the entire month off.

To concentrate on the Christmas Spectacular while simultaneously wooing my once-and-potentially-forever muse.

Before anyone makes a move to deny this request, I’ll mention that the dissolution of my relationship with the woman I thought I’d marry was partially due to the opinion that I work too much. (The other part was the aforementioned accountant hanky-panky.)

I hope you’re all cool with it. You’ll be fine without me. It’s the holidays. Nobody is doing shit around here anyway. And If things start to go south at any point, just use ChatGPT and I’m sure it’ll all work out. I am a little worried, though, that once you do realize that you’re fine without me during my brief sabbatical, you’ll realize that you’re always fine without me and there won’t be a spot for me to come back to.

Actually, no, scratch that. I’m not concerned. Not one iota. Chances are high I won’t be coming back anyway, because I’m gonna fall in love and move to the sticks and open a bed and breakfast or something and none of you will ever see me again.

Or we’ll meet again in Q1.

Anyway. Hope you all have great impending celebrations. And have fun out there.