It is two weeks and a smidge until Christmas. I have three unfinished projects and two that I haven’t even started yet. My back hurts and I’m tired. I am never, never, ever, ever going to knit all the Christmas gifts again. Never ever. I haven’t even gotten to the little ones I was planning for friends. Maybe they’ll get them as New Year gifts. I’m getting a tad bah-humbug-y about everything too.
One fortunate bit is that Corinne has not abandoned me. She is waiting patiently in the recesses of my mind, toeing the surf until I’m ready to write the real action part of her novel. And that will happen just as soon as I figure out the nemesis’ main gripe. That nemesis is turning out to be a pain in the behind, btw. And right now I don’t have the strength to dig deep enough to figure out what exactly her problem is.
It all goes back to figuring out what MY problem is and I’m sorry, but Christmas is just not a time for delving deep into one’s psyche. It’s a time for choosing perfect presents and wrapping them perfectly and waiting for the look on the recipient’s face after they tear through the wrapping in 0.5 seconds, and then smiling satisfactorily to yourself whilst you suck back eggnog and wait for the rum to enter your bloodstream so that you find everything, including the twinkling lights on the tree, completely hysterical.
I guess Corinne will have to wait until after Christmas for me to get into all of that. At least she’s at the beach. Maybe someone will pass by and parang.