Holiday mood

As I walk down the street in the evening, I often like to look up at the windows and terraces of unknown people. Not because I'm interested in other people's business. The reason is of a completely different, much shabby nature - when I'm outside, in the dark and cold, the sight of illuminated windows reminds me of the warmth of home. Not everyone is so lucky to have the same.

It gets dark early. It's cold. There is no snow, but some fog has descended on the city, so the terraces - some already festively decorated - and the illuminated windows are barely visible. The thick fog is broken by the twinkling lights of New Year's lights.

It's already the second half of December, and the thought of the passage of time creeps into my head - well, years go by, and I haven't... I list in my head what I haven't done, so I promise myself that I'll do it all next year, subconsciously knowing that in about 365 days probably make an almost identical list. With written amendments.

I unlock the apartment, turn on the light, make coffee, sit down at the laptop and look at the blank document in front of me. "I will no longer leave things for the last minute", I write down at the last minute. Both in the document and mentally.

Although the New Year is inexorably approaching, which is very difficult to forget because, as soon as November arrives, the usual "small talk" with acquaintances about the weather replaces the inevitable question: "Where are you going for New Year's Eve?" ("I don't know, probably at home"), I didn't decorate the rented apartment where I live. The thought of that never crossed my mind. New Year's euphoria usually only catches me when I go home to my parents for the holidays.

We used to have the habit of putting up New Year's decorations from the beginning of December to the end of January. That is not the case this year. It's the second half of December, and holiday trinkets are still gathering dust in various boxes. Mother says she wants to buy a new Christmas tree first - the one she usually uses is, I think, older than me. He says that when he arrives, he will leave, provided that the new Christmas tree is not too expensive. She doesn't seem overly enthusiastic either. It's as if my New Year's Eve was packed in a suitcase that I brought with me from Belgrade.

I don't think I'm the only one who carries that baggage. In my twenties, I sit in the family home and think of New Year's Eve more as a burden and an obligation than as a the most fun i the craziest night, otherwise its associated epithets. I'll meet her right at home, I decide. I'll call a few friends, we'll eat, drink, talk, at midnight we'll hug and kiss and wish each other the best wishes, then we'll go around again until one of us falls asleep. I send a message to my first friend, I present my plan, she agrees. Along with the words, I quote: "I don't even celebrate anything special".

Maybe some psychiatrist would stop here and say - oh, holiday depression! Perhaps he would be right if he made that diagnosis. Since, however, I am neither a psychiatrist nor a psychologist, and I do not like to give diagnoses to myself or others, I would leave this word out - I feel that it is too strong to describe the feelings that I, as well as many of my immediate surroundings, experience. Indisposition is the right word - precisely placed on the line of lukewarm reluctance and occasionally present nervousness.

And when I look at people, when I talk to them, I don't feel that festive spirit that we talk about nostalgically every year. It's hard, at this moment, to even think about the holidays. This should be a time of giving, a time of forgiveness, after all, and a time of much-needed rest for the average citizen.

Instead, young people took to the streets, faculties were blocked, educators, farmers, actors, lawyers are dissatisfied... There is no rest for them. The very thought that next to the bloody fist, which appeared as a sign of rebellion back in November, they find some kind of snowflake or reindeer seems distasteful.

Recently, ominous news appeared that New Year's lights fell on a trolleybus in the center of Belgrade. It's as if the city itself is trying to shake off its New Year's clothes. Another piece of information speaks of the holiday mood: even the famous Coca-Cola New Year's ad was created this year by artificial intelligence! Therefore, neither the people, nor the cities, nor the decorations, nor the marketing agencies are in the mood - let's remember that only a year ago, "Srećičica" pierced our brains, and today the advertisements are so boring.

Maybe, after all, I'm wrong and I'm projecting my holiday mood onto everyone - after all, relatives from abroad have arrived, and shopping centers are full of holes. Part of the people will use the holidays to travel, the other part, perhaps, in their homes, will replace the daily stress with the more beautiful, New Year's one - who ate half a bowl of Russian salad and is it possible that grandma is paying the entire bill for the fifth time in the game of tablets?

Some really look forward to a new beginning and write down New Year's resolutions that, unlike me, they will fulfill. If you, dear reader, are one of those people, if you are someone who still feels the New Year holidays as they used to, when he was a child, I sincerely congratulate you on that. And I'm even more sincerely envious.