Rolled into P-burg two days ago and have already bounced from Rockport to the in-laws', where I now sit (no Internet at my mom's. Eep) preparing to do Xmas Eve-y stuff.
A couple of hours back, I finished my annual reread of Hogfather, which was very nice and lifted my floundering spirits a bit. This year's been wretched for December depression. I'm not sure why. I NEVER get the holiday blues. Not like this.
Maybe it's Spyder's voodoo curse. Like a bad mojo grenade. I shudder to think.
Nng. I better go be sociable. I have lots of people to write and no time to write them in. Feh. Bloody holidays.
But Stacy and I go see T2T tonight, and that will be very very good. I need a break from my vacation already. How fucking sad is that?