Well, the deed is done. I spent most of my work day undecorating the office of Christmas. As I was in the process of undecking the halls, I had more than one person say to me, "You're already taking down the Christmas decorations?" Today, I joined the ranks of people I hate: the ones who take down their Christmas trees and finery within a few days after the holiday is over. It put me in a really bad mood, and that mood is persisting.
I had to make up my own discussion questions for the book club's book tonight. Seems not too many people are interested in Dave Barry's little Christmas tale. It's also strange that Barry wrote a book about Christmas when he's a professed atheist. I think I'm going to bring that point up during our discussion tonight. I want to hear what people think about that.
Well, I'm done bah humbugging. I'm going to eat egg nog pie this evening, and I'm going to drink hot chocolate laced with caramel Bailey's Irish Cream. I may even make everybody sing a Christmas carol, just to bolster my flagging yuletide spirits.
Now, the battle of New Year's Eve begins. My sister, who has suddenly turned into an 80-year-old woman, wants to celebrate midnight at 7 p.m. WTF? She says it's because of the young children who will be there. Actually, the young children have never had a problem making it until the ball drops in Time's Square in the past. I just couldn't fight that battle this afternoon. I'm going to deal with it later.
Saint Marty is tired of being a Mr. Potter.
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| Lookin' pretty sad |
