Tag: angst

The hardest part of every day

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Is trying to suppress how difficult life is in conversation, because if I were to be too honest about it, I would come off as curmudgeon and probably seen as overly cynical when I’m just being honest, and then such would become my reputation if it already isn’t at this point, and because perception is reality, everyone around me would tread even lighter than they already do to the point where I would become alienated more than I already feel like I am.

Because if I were to explain that I wake up every single day of the week at 6:40 in order to be ahead of the kids as far as breakfast and preparation for the day goes and the only time I ever get a breather is when my mother-in-law visits or I’m physically out of pocket, that might sound kind of rough, to almost never get a breather or opportunity to sleep in, ever.

I love my kids, but they’re at an age where everything is a fight, everything is a power struggle, they’re going to bed later than they’ve ever gone before, and by the time they’re in bed, I’m usually already hangry and frustrated at the fact that I will now have maybe two, three hours if I’m willing to stay up on the later end, to actually not be a dad, which is a paltry amount of time to accomplish really anything, as if I had any hobbies left at this juncture of my life.

But first I have to reset the house for the next day of kid carnage, and the vast majority of the time it’s just me that’s doing any of it, adding to my daily frustration level.  I do the dishes, pack the kids’ lunches, pack my own lunch, generally tidy up what needs to be tidied up, and by the time I’m done with everything, I’ll maybe have an hour before I should really be thinking about going to bed in order for this song and dance to repeat the next day.

Yeah, my life really isn’t something that I imagine anyone would envy, other than the love I have and get from my beautiful kids, and along with the aforementioned struggles above, is the fact that I feel like I’m trapped inside a bubble of being incapable of expressing myself, other than a brog nobody reads which is the closest thing to an outlet I have it feels like a lot of the time.  I don’t feel capable of being able to unload with my family or friends and I definitely wouldn’t entertain the thought of opening up to colleagues.

But it’s fucked up that I feel it’s better to be disingenuous rather than entirely honest, because honesty would hit like a sledgehammer, and I just don’t think people are tough enough to be able to handle it.  I already feel like an island most of my life, which is absolutely frightening because the last person I want to be like is my island of a dad, but I just don’t think there’s anybody who could take the truth without it blowing up in some way shape or form.

I wonder what it says that I relate so well to mommy bloggers

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

In the connected world we live in full of prying digital eyes and ears that seem to exist solely to collate information for algorithms and targeted content, I was fed this blog article from some mommy blogger, talking about how lonely it felt being everyone’s B-list friend.

It was a headline that I immediately knew what it was going to be about before I even started to read it, but like a masochist I clicked on it out of curiosity to see how someone else felt about this fairly accurately named affliction.

And unsurprisingly, I feel as if this entire article could have been written by me, except with a little more feminine eloquence and emotional neediness.  But I definitely felt this article so very hard, and the examples of where they were resultantly made to feel B-list resonate so much with me, especially since becoming a parent, and transitioning into the inevitable zone of I have kids and lots of my friends don’t, and the gradual position of not only being excluded by everyone, but also no longer even considered for invitation.

I’m seldom mad or upset about it, that just seems to be the way life is for people who age and people who have children, but one thing I’ve always said is that there is tremendous power and consideration in the act of the ask alone, and although I know and most everyone knows that asking me do something is nine times out of ten going to result in a no I can’t, I always appreciate the ask, because it makes me feel like people still think and consider me.

Honestly though, even before kids, I felt this way a lot of the time, mostly because I was the sad-sack single guy for eternity, and I get that nobody always wanted an odd-numbered wheel on their activities.  Things improved a little bit once mythical girlfriend-now-wife came into the picture, but now that we have children and have stepped onto a less-adjacent plane of existence as most everyone around us, going back onto the B-list feels more prevalent than ever.

But going back to the article, it clearly hit home hard enough to pop the synapses in my brain to want to write about it, because it was that thought-provoking.  I don’t think it hurts me as much as it hurts the author of this post, but I see, I acknowledge and I can relate to so much of this.

Frankly if I’m being honest here, the only people in my life that I don’t feel like put me on the B-list are my children.  As much as I bemoan the workload sometimes, feel like I’m overwhelmed and tired of being a parent at times, when the day is over, my girls are the only ones who don’t make me feel like I’m B-list ever.  When they have bad dreams and wake up at night, they call for me.  When it’s the morning and they know it’s time to get up and have breakfast, they know it’s me.  When they’re distressed and need a hug and snuggle, they come to me.

This isn’t to say I resent everyone else for making me feel like I’m B-list.  Everyone else just has their own shit going on their lives, and it’s easy to take a self-sufficient machine like me for granted.  I feel like everyone else already does a lot of the time, and I don’t always feel comfortable expressing such opinions too often, so it’s just the norm.

I agree with the author that it’s not good to measuring self-worth by the effort others put into our relationships, but at the same time, it’s also kind of impossible to ignore the scales of relationships and when those around us are putting us into the B-list.  It’s always easy to say one thing, but doing them is a whole different matter, and in this particular case, it’s not necessarily a bad thing to struggle with chessboard of where we’re positioned, because frankly I think it’s human nature that everyone does, and those who don’t are either blind or lying.

All the same though, going back to the title of this post, I wonder what it says about me, that such thought-provoking mommy content is what is fed to me, and resonates with me so much.

Kid-free weekend musings

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Despite the fact that I haven’t had to wake up before the sun rises to prepare and have breakfast ready for when my kids awake, I’ve still been getting up early.  The first morning, I had forgotten to disable my alarms that ensure that I’m up for the morning routine, and the second morning, the dog whined and woke me up because I had disabled my alarms but that meant she was stuck in the bedroom at the time in which her feeder would go off.

All the same, the idea of going back to sleep didn’t really cross my mind because I’m a neurotic doer who unfortunately often times sees sleep as a means to an end, and as much as I’d like to get more sleep in my life, as long as I feel like there’s an endless queue of things that need to be done instead, those will often times keep me out of bed despite knowing what pleasure sleeping without an alarm clock can bring.

So instead of sleeping more, or preparing a breakfast for the kids, I’ve actually had some calm mornings where I could actually feel a little bit like an old iteration of me for a little bit.  I went on a leisurely morning walk, alternatively to the virtual Peachtree Road Race I ran the morning prior.  I came back drenched in sweat because it’s humid as balls, but then I came home, changed clothes, logged into work, and unsurprisingly had a very slow remote day, where I was able to accomplish all sorts of side quests throughout the day.

Like hanging some picture frames that needed the 22 ft. ladder that I never get a chance to do when the kids are around, got an emissions test on my third car, went to the DMV to renew the tags and got out in two minutes because I used the self-serve kiosk that nobody else uses which left me feeling really good.  I did some kid laundry which felt good to not have to try to do it in a window in which they’re not sleeping so the noises don’t distract them, and I even got a new shelf for my garage to tidy up the shoe tornado that living in a home with nothing but females often results in.

Needless to say, I had a productive day which always puts me in a positive frame of mind, and I decided to reward myself by finally watching Fast X; a completely dumb movie which is about as surprising as white people liking Rivians, but also unsurprisingly enjoyable for me, even if I didn’t know that it was going to be a two-parter.

I won’t give anything away, but I have to say that casting Jason Momoa for the role he’s in seems like a whiff of colossal proportions.  I feel like the number one priority for the role was “look like he could be South American” but they didn’t take into account any of the character’s mannerisms, personality traits or general perceived look.  And as hunky as Momoa is, the reality is that he’s not a very talented actor, and it really says something when a Fast & Furious installment has pushed his acting chops beyond his capabilities.

All the same, can’t wait for the next one, which I feel like has to be the actual finale to the series.  Vin Diesel’s not getting any younger and it’s looking as such, the character development is heading in a direction that I’d say should be irreversible, but they seem to throw caution to the wind when it comes to those kind of rules, and the only thing I will give away is that Paul Walker’s character is still fucking alive despite the fact that the actor has been dead since Fast 7; they just can’t keep this ruse up forever!

Anyway, this morning, after the dog woke me up at 7:26am which might as well be 10am for me, I thought about possibly going back to sleep after taking her out to pee; but after we came back inside, the bowl was empty, because the feeder was empty because the dog eats like a horse, but then the tub of extra food was empty, which meant that I had to open up the new 40 lb. bag of dog food to fill the tub and feeder and bowl, and at that point I was just like fuck it, I’m staying up.

So, I got back on the horse and went for a run.  I’ve been coming to the grips that at this juncture in my life, my running speed isn’t what it used to be, and short of making some actual adjustments to my way of life, I don’t think it will get back there.  I’d been struggling to keep my pace under the 10 minute/mile as of late, and I chalked it up to poor diet, habits and complacency, and I was able to get it back down under ten, but that also was the result of several consecutive days of running while I was at my sister’s place in Richmond without having to be a parent.

My Virtual Peachtree was completed in 1:04:36, which I’m pretty sure the slowest timed 10K I’ve done since I started doing organized runs back in 2007 which was a little disappointing, but as I said, unless I really make some changes to a lot of things in my life, like taking stat points away from weight lifting and eating and putting them into running, things aren’t going to get any better as I age.

It’s a little inevitable since Father Time is undefeated, and the sooner I accept it, the less angst I’ll have about running as a whole.

So, I ran while trying to keep that mindset in place, and ran in a manner which didn’t have me gasping for air when I inevitably failed to complete a sub-30 minute 5K, which was the case, and just took solace in the fact that I was up and doing something, and when it comes to exercising, I’m fortunate to have always had the mindset that it is always a good use of time.

I’m not the fastest runner or strongest lifter, but I can confidently say that I’m probably the most consistent and dedicated exerciser that I know.  It’s never been a fad, it’s never been something I’ve done to attain a physical goal.  I made the choice to start hitting the gym and exercising back in 2006, and short of a few exceptions like coronavirus lockdowns, have I ever taken an extended period of time off from it.

No matter how down on life I might feel, how envious of the lives, accomplishments and lifestyles of other people, I feel like I always have exercise to fall back onto.  It is never a waste of time, and often times it helps get my head in a better place than which it started, or at least get my brain chugging along, which is what brought us to this point where I’ve been able to blather on so seamlessly this morning, after the run.

Dad Brog (#135): Frustrating realities of my life sometimes

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Prior to going on vacation, I saw a deal for some HexClad cookware while I was at Costco.  As the person who does the vast majority of the cooking in my household, HC stuff has been interesting to me, and I admit that there’s a bit of bait that I bit as far as its immense target marketing that they tend to do, but all the same, I am interested in the product, but the ridiculous price points on their products always kept me away.

But Costco was selling something like a seven-piece set, which would have allowed me to replace my existing pan set, as well as give me a wok, something that I’ve felt might make some of my cooking life easy at times, and it was for a fairly reasonable $379 or around that.  I found the price to be appealing, but seeing as how I was about to go on a vacation with the family, I felt that I should hold off and see how much damage we would do before dropping $400 bones on something that I didn’t technically need.

After the trip, sure, we did some damage and naturally spent more than I would have hoped to have spent, but I still wanted the pans.  If they worked as advertised, I felt that there was a lot of potential to be had, and might make me more enthusiastic about cooking in the future.  I knew that the promotion was going to go until 6/23, so I figured I had a little bit of time to pull the trigger, and the reality is that the biggest challenge about ending a vacation for kids, is the adaptation back to the daily routine, which proved to be a little challenging, seeing as how the kids spent five straight nights in five different beds, watched a ton of television on the iPad on the long car hauls, and were a little bit rowdy once they were expected to fall back to the normal daily routine.

I finally was able to get to Costco, on June 23rd, and lo and behold, the HexClad endcap was gone without a trace, and it turns out that when they said until 6/23, it really meant that 6/22 was the final day in which the deal was live.

I had missed out on something that I had wanted, because I’d put something for me at the back of the line in order to be a parent first, and a member of the team, and prioritize vacation expenses over something for myself.

Another thing that has held my interest for a while now, in light of me always looking for ways to optimize my physical status, is a MaxiClimber cardio machine.  Yes, like the HexClad pans, they do seem a little bit gimmicky, but I like the science behind it.  I’m not swayed by LeBron James, Lady Gaga or any Kardashians that back it, but the science behind the machine is interesting, and it’s definitely I’d love to try before committing to it, but I don’t know of any gyms that have these not to mention I barely like working out among people at my tiny work gym much less seeking one of these out.

I got some targeted ad about how they’re on overstock from the company themselves, and that they’re selling for $149.  I’ve definitely dropped $149+ on things less productive than a piece of exercise equipment, and frankly $149 is probably cheaper than some of the family meals I had to cover while on vacation.  Needless to say, I was very interested in pulling the trigger, but then there was one question that stood in the way: where would I put this thing?

The sunroom, where my treadmill is, is too full of all of my wife’s things to be able to support another piece of equipement, despite it being the most logical place for it to go.  There’s no room in the family room because it’s been completely taken over by the kids’ toys, books and other belongings.  The dining room we don’t use is also overflowing with tons of shit that I wish we could make disappear, and the only place where something like a MaxiClimber could possibly finagle its way into is the garage, except for the fact that it’s the middle of a Georgia summer and every single day is 95F+.

So that means no-go on the MaxiClimber too, because there’s simply no space in my house to support it.

And this is where a lot of my general daily frustrations lie, in the fact that I have basically sacrificed everything, to the point where I can’t seemingly ever get anything for myself, regardless of if it’s attainable or not.

There’s no space in my own fucking house for anything I’d want, I’ve given up my office so that we can have our live-in au pair, but it comes at the expense of having nowhere in my own home for me to shut a door and be completely alone, and all of my personal belongings that bring me happiness are all stored in boxes and crates in the garage or a closet.

I barely have my own car, since it’s the most optimal for child taxi-ing, and much like my house, I’m paying a monthly note on something where I’m apparently the lowest user, and am typically using the third car of the household which is fine in its own right, but it’s still not my car.

And of course, there’s never any time for me to capitalize on things for myself, and I find myself in a position where I always feel like I’m being taken for granted by everyone in my life, and that I’m always last in line.

“But practice self-care,” faceless people on the internet love to preach; let me say something about that, self-care is entitlement, self-care is privilege – self-care if bullshit. People recommending to others to practice self-care probably don’t have young kids, or they simply have more support than I do.

The amount of randomly targeted algorithm content that is spoon fed to me that seem to be made from random burnt-out moms on the internet that I see, I find myself being able to relate to a staggering amount of them.  A lot of frustrations will organically quell as my kids get older, and I don’t have to always worry about them running off, and I’ll feel like I’ll have more freedom to do things with them outside the house, but that involves waiting, and like some random stranger said on the internet, if you’re always waiting for some condition, you’ll just find more future conditions waiting for you when you check off current ones.

I’d like to live more of life now in the present, but as the way things are, such a simple sounding want doesn’t come very easy.  So I guess all I can continue to do is just dream and fantasize of being rich to where I could live out hypothetical realities where I could have things such as time and space for myself every now and then, because those things don’t really exist in my reality, as sad as it sounds.

One of those my age is catching up with me moments

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I participated in this hot chicken tenders eating contest, because it was hosted by Willy’s, basically my favorite eatery in the entire city of Atlanta metropolitan area.  This is the same company in which I became the self-proclaimed Burrito King™ of Atlanta when I won a promotion they had where I had to visit and make a transaction at all 28 Willy’s locations within a 30-day span which I accomplished in four.

Well, the Willy who created my favorite burrito joint got into hot chicken, and has been slowly expanding his restaurant portfolio into the hot chicken game, opening a location of one of his new ventures not terribly far from where I am.  And then I saw that there would be a hot chicken tender eating contest, and I thought to myself, no better way to flex on the small world of Willy’s than to go and win another contest.

After all, being Korean gives me a natural +10 in spicy food tolerance, and what the fuck do white people know about spicy food anyway, so I figured it would be a layup to roll in, crush three hot chicken tenders in the span of six minutes and walk away with a little bit of swag.  Honestly, the photo on their wall of winners was probably the most important prize of all, because when it comes to fat guy accolades, showing my superiority at spice tolerance is something that I wouldn’t mind flexing on all the pleebs who can’t handle heat.

Anyway, I came, went and saw, and much like I knew I could, crushed the three hot chicken tenders in six minutes and walked away a winner.  This wasn’t a contest where there was a last man standing, but basically series of waves, where 10 people take the challenge on at a time.  Six people bounced in the first wave, and I was a part of the second wave where another five people dropped out from the heat.  I didn’t stick around for the third wave, because I had already proven my point.

Howlin’ Willy’s hot chicken was definitely among the higher tiers of spicy I’ve ever had in my life, but I will maintain that it was still not the spiciest thing I’d ever eaten either; that distinction goes to some nuclear pork I had in Seoul, where mythical then-gf and I had to tap and waste the food, and the retribution was fairly immediate.  But as for Willy’s, I definitely felt the heat through the challenge, but I was able to make it through without much difficulty.  The heat was slow acting, but after it burns, it burns off quickly, and before I left the shopping center, I was already back to feeling fine.

That is until the remainder of the day progressed, and I started to get hit with what I’m guessing was the mother of heartburn.  I don’t really know, because I really didn’t know what heartburn was supposed to feel like.  It wasn’t like indigestion pain, but just this really dull ache in my stomach that made me want to stop whatever it was I was doing, and just put myself into a position where I could apply pressure to my gut or be in a folded position where the pressure would alleviate.

Effectively, the rest of my day was ruined, because I couldn’t really get comfortable, and it impacted my ability to be present with my kids and physically competent to operate at a normal level.  I crushed a bunch of Tums hoping it would help, and I don’t think it really did.  After the kids were down, I ran to the store to get some Pepto, since the thought of something coating my insides was an appealing one, and by the time I went to bed, I probably downed a quarter of the bottle.

I’d never felt more relieved when the indigestion did hit, because it was finally giving my body the opportunity to purge the hot chicken from my body and not to get too graphic but boy did it feel as hot evacuating the body as it did burning my mouth earlier in the day.

Fortunately, a night’s sleep seemed to cure what ailed me, but before going to bed, I expressed that I felt a lot of regret for participating in a fairly meaningless contest, even if it was held by Willy’s.  The prizes were minimal, but the punishment I put onto my 40+ year old body was pretty vicious.

At first, I was just wondering if this was just my body reacting to ghost pepper, something I don’t really think I’d ever had before.  But the reality is more likely that this was a stark reminder of how I’m not the 25-year old that could eat whatever I wanted and shrug it off within hours.  Lesson learned that this was a situation where I could’ve been smarter and erred on the side of not punishing my body for a pretty useless reason.  Even for Willy’s, no matter how much of a fan I am of the brand.

Was The Leftovers supposed to be a horror story or Damon Lindelof’s personal fantasy?

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

This is actually a post that I’ve kept in my back pocket for a while, and one that I knew that I had to be in the right frame of mind before I could actually write it.  I had to be in an agitated mood, which is hard to imagine a person like me not being in an agitated mood, but I also needed to have the time necessary to put my thoughts to keyboard.

But not just any agitated mood, but one specifically where I’m feeling like there are just too many fucking people in the world, and how I’d wish a ton of people would just spontaneously vanish, like Thanos’s Snap or, and in the context of this specific post, like in the plot of The Leftovers.

Now [spoiler alert] because I’m going to go ahead and just probably spoil a bunch of things for those of my zero readers whom might actually be interested in watching this show in the future, despite the fact that at this point it’s like ten years old.

But the basic plot of the show in the beginning is that for absolutely no apparent reason at all, 2% of the entire earth’s population just spontaneously vanished.  Nobody knows whether they were killed, were transported, were abducted or whatever, the point is that 2% of the earth’s population just mysteriously disappeared, and that 2% might sound small, but still equated to about 140 million people.

[Spoilers begin] It turns out at the end of the series, the answer to The Disappearance is that the 2% did not die, or cease to exist, they were simply transported to basically, another version of the world where they were the only ones on the planet.  To them, 98% of the planet mysteriously vanished, and they clearly had it way worse than their counterparts, because with 98% of the planet’s population disappearing, that’s a whole fuckton of global infrastructure that’s gone with it.

And such is actually explained, that as a result of the planet becoming so sparsely populated, a lot of shit did kind of go primal, and stuff like the grid becoming unreliable, things such as transportation, flight, and science crashing to near halts, but the 2% of humanity does survive.  They acknowledge, adapt and survive, and as time passes, people move on with their lives.

All of this is explained as one of the main characters, late in the series, Nora, who lost her husband and both her children in The Disappearance, finds a scientist in Australia who claims to have figured out what had happened, and had invented a machine that could transport subjects into the alternate world, goes to the alternate world, discovers that her family, after dealing with the shell shock of their own Disappearance and the loss of a wife and mother, moved on.  So, as not wanting to traumatize her family with a miraculous reappearance, she decides to go back to her world, but is rudely awakened to the idea that a world with 98% less people in it, is just a little bit behind scientifically, and basically has to wait decades before the invention of the alternate world travel machine to be built so that she could return to her version of existence.

The point of explaining all of this is that every now and then, there are days of my own existence where I feel that there are just too many fucking people on this planet, and musing how liberating it must be to be on either end of a Disappearance.  Like days where I’m commuting to work, and wondering just why there are so many fucking cars on my route on some days versus others (the existence of I-285).  Or when I’m going to Costco and the parking lot is practically entirely full, and there are 107 cars in line for gas on top of everything.  Or when I go out of the house to run a quick errand and there’s a surreptitiously high amount of cars also on the road or at the stores, and I’m thinking what the fuck.

It sure would be nice if 140 million of these motherfuckers just bamf’d to alternate world and alleviated my world of their existence.  Or better yet, I get to be one of the lucky 2%-ers who gets to have a wide open fucking empty version of the world where there’s tremendously way less chance of people fucking up my daily rhythm just by existing in close proximity to me.

I figure Damon Lindelof came up with the general premise of The Leftovers to sound scary and ominous that such a wild global event could occur, but on days like this where I’m sour over the knowledge of the world’s global 8 billion human beings, I begin to think that perhaps The Leftovers and The Disappearance might also be a fantasy.  Because on days like this, it definitely sounds like a dream come true to me, to be somewhere 98% less populated.

I’d definitely miss my kids and family though. 😢

I am so over shopping for presents

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I understand that over the last year or two, I’ve been coming off like a tremendous Scrooge.  I will be the first to admit that I am suffering from depression in the span of that time, because at the root of everything I feel that my life is very difficult, and largely in part due to the feeling financially insecure, and the gamut of factors why it is as well the results of it.

In this span, I have been largely incapable of enjoying holidays in the manner in which they really should be enjoyed, because when you’re in a position that I’m in, holidays mean a lot more work, a lot more effort, a lot more money, with the latter variable being largely in part of why I’m often times so anxious and fretting over the most.

But to the point of the subject of this post, I’m really over shopping for presents, mostly because I just don’t know what the fuck anyone and everyone wants, but I feel obligation to provide gifts to a lot of these people, because it’s the most efficient way of demonstrating that I care and I really do care and I really do want to show my appreciation, but the truth of the matter is that I just don’t know what people want and/or I do, but it’s something that’s ridiculously expensive and I don’t have the means to get it and that’s a whole result of sucking as well.

Anyway, I have a list of people whom I want to get something for, and the vast majority of it is blank currently, because I just don’t know what to get anyone.  These days, or maybe that it’s always been the case, people are capable of getting what they want, when they want, to a degree that by the time the holidays roll around, there’s nothing left to ask for.  And not knowing what to get someone seems like the worst possible outcome, because if I knew what to get everyone, I wouldn’t be typing up this conversation piece in the first place.

Yet I feel obligated to get things for everyone because I know that the most of them will be doing the same for me.  Honestly if it were up to me, there would be no gifts shared, so that neither party feels obligated to exchange gifts and go through the time, effort and finances to demonstrate with gifts the importance of one another to each other.  I try to do that for others by giving them time, effort, favors when called upon, or being there in times of need.

But the point is, I’m sick of gifts.  I’m sorry if that sounds horribly crass and blunt and really curmudgeon but that’s where I’m at right now.  I’m tired of not knowing what anyone wants because I don’t have the capacity to be around everyone that matters to me to pick up hints and ideas for what I can provide for them, and it’s driving me insane sitting in front of my computer and trying to rack my brain fruitlessly for ideas of gifts that will inevitably end up being shitty because the rationale for them will be so convoluted and stretched that they’ll suck and people will try their hardest to be nice and try to not feel in the backs of their minds that they were given a stinker.

I want nothing, so that I can be absolved of the feeling obligated to return the favor, so that I can spend my sparse time, shits to give and money on more important thing than gifts, which is exactly what I’d really like the most.  There is a direct correlation with my depression and those things being in more copacetic places than they are now, and I just don’t know what to do to improve things and this is not how I want to be feeling at a time of the year where people are expected to be happy, festive and grateful for things.