I am not feeling even moderately Christmassy these days. Christmas has never been my holiday, coming as it does so soon after the greatest of holidays, and I worked in retail for too many years to not have a deep-seated dislike for Christmas music. Unrelated to the holiday, and really to anything else, I have been spending most of my days being wildly grumpy and stomping a lot, as well as doing a lot of sneezing, and sometimes running through one of the remaining dwarfs just to shake things up a little.
With luck it'll snow this weekend, which should improve my disposition at least a little bit. This winter has been so very dry.
The other day Jay said to me, "Please describe yourself in six words -- no more or less -- six on the nose." I still haven't been able to manage this--brevity is not my strong suit--but I was talking to Captain Toby of the HMS Poor Judgement about it earlier. Toby has spent approximately the last 11 year watching me make a fool of myself, so he had a few ideas. "Looks like a mouse, but bigger." "Warning: dangerous curves ahead. Approach cautiously." "Contains dangerous band of murderous psychopaths." (To which I wonder, what other kind of band of murderous psychopaths is there?) There were others. Six words is not a lot, and yet also it seems too many. Especially since there were seven dwarfs.
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