You know the feeling. You realize, a little too late, that you forgot to buy a gift. Or you crave that Yule Log everyone’s raving about, the one from a local indie bakery that isn’t exactly on your usual route. On an ordinary day, it would be a simple 20-minute trip. Around the holidays, it takes nearly an hour just to get there and find a parking spot, and you haven’t even stepped inside the bakery yet.
As the minutes pass, you start wondering whether you made the right choice. Was that gift, or that Yule Log, really worth the time it’s taking? Why does it feel so hard to do? The frustration isn’t dramatic, but it’s quietly draining. And it’s very familiar to anyone who has tried to squeeze one more errand into an already packed December schedule.
You also know it could have been worse. A snowy day would have added another layer of complexity: slippery sidewalks, snow removal machines in the way, streets that become narrower with less margin for error. In cities with real winters, snowy days don’t just slow things down; they limit how easily people can move around. That’s true whether you walk, drive, or take the bus.
But the extra gift or the Yule Log isn’t the real issue. What you’re experiencing is the weight of congestion and lost time. Some of it is inevitable. December is busier than most months, with more people shopping, visiting, and moving around. Everybody expects that seasonal pressure. But when schedules are tight and pressure is high, friction that is usually tolerated suddenly feels unbearable.
The hidden cost of holiday errands goes beyond the time lost in traffic or circling for parking.
The hidden cost is the emotional tax created by systems that weren’t built to support real life: short trips, last-minute decisions, the desire to support local businesses, the reality of winter, and the accumulation of small efforts that slowly drain your energy.
Sadly, this isn’t just a December problem.
That hidden cost exists all year long. December simply amplifies it. In practice, running errands across multiple places is far easier if you drive a car and can shift your schedule during the day. In most North American cities, public transportation is not optimized for trips involving multiple destinations.
Most cities were designed around commuting to work. Handling the many short, frequent trips that make up everyday life was never part of the equation. That oversight disproportionately affects women, teenagers, people with lower incomes, older adults, and anyone who doesn’t want—or can’t—drive.
Over time, that friction doesn’t just frustrate people; it quietly shapes their choices, making them more likely to give up, stay home, or settle for less.
December doesn’t create these problems. It reveals them. That’s when you get the sense that the city is working against you rather than with you. Those moments matter, because they don’t disappear in January. They simply become part of the background noise of daily life.
On that note, I wish you time to slow down and enjoy the celebrations with your loved ones. Here’s to a coming year that, hopefully, brings fewer frictions, more connections, and cities that serve us all a little better.
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This article first appeared in More Than Streets on LinkedIn.
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