I survived the holidays. I’m working with the public this year, so that means everybody else’s problems. I wound up with a crying stranger hugging me on Christmas Eve. Eve? Well, it was about six thirty in the morning. I also wound up being propositioned at quitting time… (In front of a Salvation Army guy with an oboe, no less!)(No, I would not like to fuck, and tell your wife Merry Christmas for me.)

One of my co-workers informed me that I would literally die if I ate Chinese food on Christmas.

By that time, I was pretty much peopled-out, so I checked my pulse and informed him it wasn’t true.

(For the record, it is also not true that you die if you eat Indonesian, Indian, or Persian on Christmas Day. The cheese steak, though? That came close.)

I’ve been busy.

This can be the loneliest time of the year. And I’m not really sure where I want to go, or what I want to do… or even who I want to spend the season with.

I’m not sure when I last felt that sense of magic and belonging. It may have gotten traded in for the rush and expectations.

I wound up with a fairly sizeable dip in my word count, but I’m still chugging along on the revision. I’m not sure how much of that is holidays and how much of it is that I’m hitting the middle slog with my projects.

I hope everybody else is surviving the mid-winter pressure cooker. Go get some rest. You deserve it.