DECEMBER 26, 2025 HOLIDAY SEASON GROUNDCOVER NEWS Do we really rest during the holidays? Rethinking what “taking a break” actually means ANGELA JENNINGS Toledo Streets During the holiday season there is a widespread assumption that people naturally slow down, relax and recharge. In theory, this period is meant to offer a break from routine responsibilities, an opportunity to reconnect with others and a moment to simply breathe. However, the lived reality of the holidays often diverges significantly from this ideal. The purpose of this article is to examine why rest can feel increasingly difficult during a season that is traditionally associated with ease and comfort. All of this to ask: do the holidays genuinely give people space to rest, or have they become another source of pressure and expectation? To begin, it is important to consider where our ideas about holiday rest originate. Popular media tends to portray the season as inherently peaceful — complete with quiet mornings, warm drinks and uninterrupted time away from obligations. Yet many people report the opposite experience. Travel preparations, financial strain, extensive social obligations and the emotional weight of family dynamics all play a role in reducing the chance for genuine rest. In other words, the holidays may promise rest culturally, but they do not consistently provide it practically. Next, it is necessary to acknowledge the role of emotional labor during this time of year. For many, the holiday season comes with the expectation to be cheerful, grateful and energetic, regardless of personal circumstances. This creates a kind of performance-based joy — something that people feel obligated to maintain rather than something that they naturally experience. Social media contributes to this phenomenon as well, as people compare their celebrations to curated depictions of perfection. Ultimately, when joy becomes performative, rest becomes secondary. The question of rest is also tied closely to emotional energy. Being surrounded by family or friends, even when those relationships are positive, can be mentally demanding. Reconnecting with people one sees infrequently, More lies from hell TOMMY SPAGHETTI Groundcover vendor No. 668 Glossary: Hell=Detroit, lies=stories, Mboob=girlfriend, bucket=mini-van, popo=Police, cray cray=Crazy, Lie-Downs=Detroit Lions, drips=hours Mboob kicks me out at 3 a.m. It’s the night after Turkey Day. You know, Turkey Day, the day when all anyone cares about is eating gross meat and watching the Lie-Downs lose another football game. I know, I know, it’s really Thanksgiving but it’s really a faux exercise of gratitude toward an extinct population. Remember the “Indians?” Remember the Pilgrims? What a horrible lie we commemorate, but I digress. The only reason I mention Turkey Day is because it’s the day I was cast back into the streets by Mboob. Yet another foray into the mean streets of Hell. Yet another attempt at surviving the cold winter without adequate shelter. This time I leave with just the clothes on my back. No phone, no blanket, no backpack but I do have scrilla in my pocket and a BUCKET! Goatboy left Michigan for warmer temperatures. Not sure how it happened that he had two buckets in his possession but I ended up with the least desirable one. Erick: “Tommy Biscotti, can you get my van from the mechanic’s and park it in Mboob’s driveway?” I am sponging Mboob’s house, heat, phone, fridge and Goatboy wants to impose his van on her driveway. Calling the mechanic: “Hello Chris?” “Yes.” “I’m calling about Goatboy’s bucket.” “Yeah Tom, it can’t stay here or it will get towed. You better come and get it.” 24 drips later … bicycling to the mechanic’s house I notice the weather has changed from bearable to cray cray cold. Loading the bicycle into the van, stabbing the key into the steering wheel column VROOM!!!! This bucket has a strong engine. Of course the gas gauge says empty. Putting the bucket onto Mboob’s driveway triggers DOOM N’ GLOOM from her. “It’s gonna leak fluid onto the driveway, the neighbors are going to complain blah blah blah!” The siren breaks the silent night. Five minutes later I’m out of the house, leaving with curses lashed at my back. Driving this gifted bucket, it’s more like a magic carpet made of steel with wheels. 3 a.m. and I'm steering towards a 24 hour gas station in Hell, my favorite managing group conversations, and balancing different personalities require sustained effort. For some, this can be fulfilling; for others, it can be exhausting. Rest, therefore, is not only about time away from work but also about mental clarity and emotional space — two things that the holidays do not always guarantee. In analyzing holiday burnout, one common factor emerges: a lack of boundaries. Many people feel obligated to attend every event, fulfill every tradition, or assume the majority of hosting responsibilities. Yet rest is rarely possible without intentional limits. Those who report feeling genuinely restored after the holidays often set clear expectations ahead of time — saying no when necessary, dividing tasks among family members or opting for simpler gatherings. Establishing boundaries may appear counterintuitive in a season centered around togetherness, but it can actually enhance the quality of connection rather than diminish it. Recently, there has been a noticeable shift toward embracing a more simplified holiday season. Some people are petrol station because there’s always a drug deal happening in the candy aisle and a blunt getting puffed in the doorway. Not wanting to reveal its true location out of deference to its proprietor, I call it 1313 Mockingbird Lane. $60 worth of E-85 and I’m off. Being homeless is different in a bucket. Doesn’t seem as drastic or severe. Like, if the scenery looks grim, just press the pedal and steer to another location. At the witching hour I’m cruising through Hell. Hardly any other buckets competing for time and space. Darkness permeates these lies. Dark van, dark road, dark sky. Only neon lights on closed businesses pierce this noir theme. My heart is black, my future is bleak but for some strange reason my mouth is singing an Irish ditty that I created 25 years ago. Over the past 19 years Mboob and I have had numerous conflicts. At one time I worshipped her feet with broken toes and felt like we were perfect mates. Mboob has much to love and appreciate. But after two decades that love has pickled. Nuptial conflict always feels like adolescent behavior. Homeless, NOT car-less. Little house on the highway. This bucket lacks legal representation from the Legal Cult. Never saw a title, registration or proof. Pretty sure if the Popo pulls me over, they’re hooking it. choosing smaller gatherings, reducing gift exchanges or eliminating high-pressure traditions altogether. This movement, sometimes referred to informally as a “rest-focused holiday,” reflects a growing desire to reclaim the season as a time of genuine restoration rather than obligation. Prioritizing meaningful moments over elaborate plans allows people to participate in the holiday experience without sacrificing their wellbeing. While the holiday season is traditionally associated with relaxation, it does not always function that way in practice. The combination of social expectations, emotional labor and blurred boundaries can make rest difficult to achieve. However, by approaching the season with intentionality — simplifying where possible, setting personal limits and reducing performance-based pressure — people may experience a holiday that aligns more closely with the restful ideal. Rest, ultimately, is not inherent to the season; it is something cultivated through conscious choice. Courtesy of Toledo Streets / INSP.ngo Goatboy wants to sell this bucket to me for $1000 but after driving it a few miles I feel like he should pay me $2000 to take it off his hooves. I just hate this capitalist orgy, the car thing. Driving this bucket around instead of walking, bicycling or busing only proves my own hypocrisy. The only saving grace to my reputation is that this bucket drinks Ethanol. The internal combustion engine originally ran on ethanol. Distillation of crude oil proved to be more profitable for the oil and chemical companies. 100 years of smog laden cities, bribe coated politicians’ oil wars and there seems to be no turning back. This E-85 bucket also has a large solar panel covering the entire roof. Totally awesome! I end up at Train Wreck Dave's house and he is not home. The lonely cat welcomes me inside where I sleep until I don't know when. No phone, no clock. A cold house only makes the blankets more comfortable. Sleeping and dreaming until the sun peeks into the bedroom. Stabbing the key into the steering column again and VROOM! This bucket moves to Flappergirl’s condo. She is not home either so I goldilocks another bed. Love the stocked houses with the unlocked doors. This homeless but not bucket-less existence is proving to be something I can get used to. 11
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