So today is the day that Jesus rose from the ground, took a look around, saw his shadow and decided that we have 6 more weeks of winter.  Because we are all sinners.  And because, I'm pretty sure, that he gets off by torturing us.  At least that is how you feel about Easter if you live in my household. 

I've told you this before:  I am not a big fan of holidays.  Especially the religious ones.  I used to have the biggest problem with Christmas, but I have to say, I almost blew my gasket several times this past week.  What pushed me over the edge?  The simple wish to "Have a Happy Easter."  Why is it that Christians have to throw out this wish to everyone they encounter before a religious holiday.  Are they so arrogant to assume that EVERYONE celebrates?  That EVERYONE is a Christian?   And for this week, that EVERYONE celebrates Easter?  Even those well-wishers who threw out the "Have a happy holiday weekend?"  Grrr.  And we don't even get a day off for this holiday.  Not that a day off would help me get in the festive mood.

I grew up in a Catholic household.  Went to Church every Sunday.  Even went to Catholic school.  Easter, and the weeks leading up to Easter were a big deal.  Special masses, candles to light and stations of the cross to attend to.  I remember hating the stations because they required, at least in the mind of my young body, an excess of kneeling.  Kneeling.  Just another way that the church has decided to inflict it's torture. 

Because I went to catholic school, we always had the Friday before Easter off.  This Friday is known as Good Friday.  In my household, there was nothing good about it.  As the story goes, Jesus died between 12 and 3 on this Friday.  My mother told my sister and I that we had to be quite (no TV, no NOTHING) for these few hours and that we had too take this quite time to reflect on why Jesus did what he did.  Not an easy task for a 12 year old.  I've asked my mom about this tradition before and she wavers between denying in and pleading insanity. 

Easter Sunday to me, will always just be another Sunday.  The day before another gruesome week of work begins.