I wish I could find an entertaining TV movie that could explain the true meaning of Christmas to me.

I only have two more days of hell (read: work) and then I'm off to Ol' Virginny. (I just happened to look up the lyrics to "Carry Me Back to Old Virginny." I haven't read it since seventh grade when I had to do a big Virginian history project. Now I know why it could possibly offend some people: "There's where this old darkey's heart am long'd to go.")

When I left work yesterday I decided that I would "treat myself" (as one of the other managers described it) and call-in sick this morning. And then I realized that it's probably better to be miserable at work, because if I'm sitting at home feeling like crrrap, it'll certainly ruin the fun-pants and Uncle Buck for me. So, here I am, listening to I See a Darkness on loop.

My manager is out today, so it's turning out to be slightly tolerable after all.

I'm assuming we're not having a real Christmas party this year, since I have yet to receive an email from the department. That's pretty disappointing, since my friend Sarah told me that the Christmas party is usually crazier than the Spring Picnic, which is when I got really drunk with her and her old manager and did impressions of our co-workers. As the rest of the benefits of this job gradually slip away, I was hoping free Amstel Light would keep my morale at a solid 4.0. Tough luck. All I get is an office Christmas luncheon tomorrow, and I will most likely be bleeding awkward.

In the interest of not being completely all boo-boo bear before Christmas, I'm going to take a (FOR REAL THIS TIME) break from posting this week. I have several family celebrations this weekend, and I GUARANTEE something worth reading next Tuesday, if not by the weekend. So I'll leave you with this:

Happy Holidays, from my house to yours!