I may be last-minute, the bar may be low—but we clear it
I
do this thing every year where I willfully ignore the Jewish calendar until I’m physically unable to anymore.
I watch pomegranates pile up in the shuk and assume people are just reeeeally into antioxidants this year. I walk past Succos decorations in Geulah without flinching. The smell of sufganiyot wafts through the streets and I think, “Huh, someone’s baking.”
And then I get the text. “Hi! Does Tuesday night work for a Chanukah party?”
That’s when reality hits: Yom Tov is happening whether I’m ready or not.
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