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Merry Merry

Hear that?

That is the sound of the complete absence of my family from the immediate vicinity. Let’s all just enjoy it for a minute, shall we?


I’m sitting in the President’s Club in the Houston airport, soaking up the free wi-fi and eating as many peanuts as I could possibly want while I gorge myself on all the blogs I could only glance at for the last eight days. Said glancing was done on my parents’ Wintel, which just gives me the screaming meemies every time I have to work on it. So it’s nice to be able to open up the old PB again, especially since there isn’t somebody looming over my shoulder asking what I’m doing, accusing me of being anti-social, or just plain insisting that I drop whatever I’m doing to (a) run an errand, (b) eat yet another meal, or (c) just come sit in the living room with the rest of us.

Christmas was, on the whole, a success: no major emotional outbursts, including the one evening when I was this far from screaming that everybody just needed to leave me the fuck alone and stop treating me like I’m twelve already; no illness or injury; no bloody snow. (Who knew, incidentally, that that was one I needed to be worried about? Houston Intergalactic is completely devoid of the white stuff on the ground, thankfully, but not far south of here, things are blanketed.) As to gifts, I got one of these, which I didn’t even know existed, but which is wholly appropriate.

Because with all the pressure I’ve been under lately, I might as well put it to good use.


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