Isn't it a nightmare of planning and list-making and rushing and bickering? At the end of every day, do you move all today's list items to tomorrow's list, because you didn't get anything done? Do you leave work early to rush to a certain store, then rush back four more times because they keep screwing up your order? But you don't get mad at them, because that would be hypocritical, because you screwed up your own arduous, painstaking homemade gifts when they were 85% done, and had to start again from scratch, and whose fault is that? Do you eat too much, even though it doesn't taste that good, and feel yourself getting fatter every day? Why on earth is it more stressful to mail presents to your boyfriend's family on time than it was to meet them for the very first time two Christmases ago?

Or is it just me?