It’s easy to forget a holiday like this one when you’re going it alone and there is an endless stream of out-of-office minders from other inboxes. When there aren’t as many empty desks of coworkers surrounding yours – the ones who have taken time off between Christmas and the New Year. When the daily commute isn’t sprinkled with garland and lights, and your HR rep wears one of her extensive collection of holiday sweaters.

Same goes for not having to shovel snow every few days because what is the deal with this weather anyhow?

It’s easy to forget when that feeling just never strikes you. Sure, I see the characters on the shows that I watch go through their holiday tribulations that resolve to that warm festive jubilation. But they are characters in fictional universes. Dinner is ruined and a pipe froze, but at least they have each other.

It’s easy to forget when the most reasonable gift you have is family that is nearby, so you’re saved the hassle of the airport this time of year. Instead, I’m left with the dread of calling a dozen restaurants to see what might be open and who might deliver.

It’s easy to forget, but not because I’m outrightly against the holiday and all the things it represents. I’m sure there isn’t just coincidence in the connection between the darkest days of the year and the most expressive form of celebration. Of the lights and the carols and the gift wrap and warm drinks. Heavy meals, logs on the fire, mindless TV to fall asleep to and a stack of books I swore I’d finish by the end of the year.

It’s easy to forget when the rest of the year is so jam-packed with travel and places to be and projects to move on and advances to make. Maybe it’s me, but it is easy to forget that one day of the year when everything just stops for a moment.

It’s hard to stop.