Hate.

Holidays.

*shrug* No, seriously. The only holiday I like in any real sense is Halloween and that's just because it's an excuse to do what I'd be doing anyway and a chance to find better costumes/props/makeup than any other time of year. The rest of the winter holidays? Between the commercialism, the crowds, the jacked-up prices, the shitty driving, the anger, and the number of religions that get weirded out, I would prefer to just go somewhere in the arse end of Canada where the only things I'd see until January were caribou.

I hate the holidays.

It's Sunday; hopefully I will be able to get to the post office on Monday and finally get these damned letters sent out. I have them all addressed and everything, I just keep forgetting that I have to leave the house during the DAY if I want to get stamps. I'm also, just at the moment, waiting for Cate to get out of the bathroom so we can figure out what we're doing for dinner/breakfast. First meal of the day, if you don't count my snacking on a piece of pie that was intended for me to eat last night but that I was too tired to bother with, and I really DO want to eat something solid today.

I also want more sleep. We didn't get home until late, or early, and ended up savoring the Joy Of Penguins with dreadlocks-boy for an hour or so, THEN Cate drove him home, bringing back chicken and pie, and only after most of that was consumed and the rest stashed did I finally get to sleep. I can't stop yawning.

Gah.

So tired. So stressed. Haven't wrapped any of the presents for Dixon People, need to get stuff to Rhia, need to mail shit, planning to hook up with my parents at some point, I should be down on the coast briefly but gods only know if I will be, this is just... gah. GAH.

Going back to curling up under a blanket and wishing it was already January now.