Time has not moved this slowly since I was a kid waiting for Christmas and Santa’s haul. Except this time, I’m not sure he got the memo that I was nice and that he shouldn’t bring me a wrinkly old lump of coal and Gun-totin’ Barbie with winking action. I mean, it would seriously be the worst Christmas ever. I might even begin to believe that Santa was indeed Satan, as Church Lady dutifully told me on 1990’s SNLs.
So just this once, could we have some kind of Star Trek time warp, or is there a self-induced coma I can bring upon myself until the 4th? Because seriously, I’m done.