I really don’t have to tell regular readers of my little blog how much I hate
holidays, right? My holiday blues came on really strong this weekend. I blame the
Food Network and all their Thanksgiving-themed shows (mmm, gravy). But the blues
were so strong that, for a moment, I actually considered accepting any
invitations that might come my way. Then my hatred of driving anywhere kicked
in and I realized that is not going to happen. Unless the get-together was
taking place in my apartment building. Or the hotel on the left. Or the casino
on the right. I am my own worst enemy. If only I could get over this hatred of
driving. Because I am sure that if I dropped enough hints (who am I kidding? I
don’t drop hints, I ask outright) I am sure I could wrangle a few pity invites.
But no, I shall stay home, play Blackjack on my iPad, let Sammy chew my wrists,
and eat potato chips and Hot Pockets, washed down with some Red Stripe. Ah,
good times.
How was your holiday, after all?
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