17 December 2008


Everyone is so pleasant during this Holiday season that it makes me overly suspicious. People who normally walk rapidly past my office door, snarling their way somewhere, now move more slowly and smile at me. I don’t know who they are, and I don’t think they know at whom they are smiling (and I am certain they don’t really care!!), but I don’t have enough time to smile back, and it takes too long to try to call out Happy Holidays. So I sit here like one of those old people in the nursing homes to whom people talk but expect no answer.

And people keep dropping off food to eat. I’d rather they decked the halls with the food rather than my office. Or my digestive tract, which cannot really handle these generous offerings. Beautiful baked goods, bags of candies, peanut brittles (which I love)—I can’t get them home fast enough to keep from eating them. I grow stout here, there, and everywhere.

I wait for the end of the holiday season when everything returns to normal, and the supplies of food disappear, the good cheer dissipates, and those people moving past my door start frowning at me again.


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