Tomorrow I get to open my gifts from Aaron. I get to watch Aaron open the gifts I got for him. There’s snow aplenty to make for a white Christmas. I’m bringing a sausage cake to Lakewood on Saturday. I don’t have to work for four, count ’em, *four* days.
So why do I still feel unenthused?
I feel like something’s wrong. Something’s missing.
And the first person who tells me I’m missing the Christ in my Christmas gets a big ol’ comment ban from Yours Truly. Constructive comments, however, are always welcome. Especially from Amy, who seems to have her finger on the pulse of my general weird depresso phases.