Holiday

Well it’s been a while, hasn’t it? What have you been up to? Everything all right? How was your Christmas? That’s good. I hope your aunt didn’t give you a hard time like last year. Your new haircut is to flattering, I don’t care what your mother said. And your job is going somewhere. It’s just hard to see at the moment. But the holidays are not the time of year for that kind of analysis. It’ll only drive you to drink. More, I mean. Have another piece of fudge and some egg nog and you’ll feel better. And make sure you collect the receipt for that sweater before you head home. You’ll need it.

We’ve been fine. The lead-up to Christmas was completely chaotic this year, which is not my preference or my habit, but that’s just how it worked out, with everything that’s been going on. (More on that later.) Christmas itself, though, turned out quite well, although consuming 10,000 calories in one day did seem a bit suicidal. I have a newfound respect for competitive eating. I spent the last part of the last meal drilling holes with pine branches from the centerpiece in the bottom of hollow chocolate Santas and spooning Splenda tablets and dessert wine into them, patching up the hole with the insides of the Oreo truffles, rewrapping their foil and sending them down to the other end of the table for consumption. You’re welcome everyone. My pleasure.