Thirty-three "shopping" days until Christmas ... if only. Happily, most of my friends and family understand that I can't afford to buy presents. Unfortunately, making gifts takes a lot more time. I never thought I'd be longing for a frenzied trip to the Galleria, but I'd gladly trade one crappy Saturday for a couple months of guilty stress.

So many people are truly important to me. My family, for sure (including cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles, etc.). Then there's community group (about ten people), my coworkers (around fifteen), my college friends (five I still keep in touch with), Pensacola friends (three), the booksellers -- current and former -- of Jonathan Benton (seven), former roommates (three), current apartment-mates (four). And then there are fifteen or so people who don't really fit into any of those categories.

Of course, I'm not giving a gift to every person on that list (and there are five or so people who are in more than one category). But, according to Real Simple, Emily Post, The Food Network and the vast Martha Stewart empire of ultra organization, I should "pass the cheer" to everyone in my life, from each and every party hostess to my grandparents' puppy (and, yes, I did hand-bake and personalize dog treats for Tiny last year).

This level of generosity requires time and talent. I'm crafty, but I'm no Martha Stewart. Making holiday gifts takes more than imagination. It takes hours of work and organization. My goal for the past two months has been to make a gift list, and that's still not finished.

True, magazines and television shows that make me feel like I have to make and wrap twenty boxes of homeade peppermint bark (complete with handmade tags) have a vested interest in guilting me into acting like June Cleaver on Red Bull. They need to make advertisers happy, and they need me to buy magazines -- how else will I remember how to make tiny styrofoam snowman pencils.

Still, I feel like a failure as a woman -- yet again -- if I don't give the perfect gift. I don't have a career, a home (my apartment is always in some state of disarray), or a family (not even a date); I still can't even put on eyeliner correctly. Now I can't get a simple Christmas list right. And every year my Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bars come out looking weird ... even when I'm wearing a cute apron.

It makes me angry to feel so guilty and inadequate for such silly reasons. But I can't seem to shake those feelings. I still feel frustrated with myself for not creating a more organized holiday. Martha says I need to have color coded desk blotters ... maybe she's onto something, because I'm getting nowhere without them.

SHOUT OUTS

My grocery fast is finally over!! My dad brought me to Publix when he dropped me off in Birmingham, and we certainly stocked my pantry. I hadn't realized how much I had actually gone through (I was pretty much left with soy sauce, a ton of rice, frozen edamame and canned beans) until we replenished it all. Props to Dad for not passing out when he saw the bill.

Also, I sold a cozy on the Etsy store! Sure, it was to Lyndsay, who I think is rather partial, but still. (Thanks Lyd ... you've been really amazing through all this.)