Christmas season sort of unofficially started today, I guess, maybe, although if Target is your cultural calendrical referent, it may have started sometime before Halloween. Ecclesiastically, I do not think we're into Advent yet--haven't been paying attention on that score for a while now--although the chocolate-filled Advent calendar season starts on Tuesday.
It's all very confusing.
No lights are up yet at Chez Bolt, and the Christmas CDs haven't made the annual migration over to the stereo yet. I may have seen them lacing up their boots for the trek earlier this evening. They will probably make it sometime tomorrow.
We are floating in the singular state of dread that presages a migraine. It's a familiar dance now, a regular pasa doble of pressure and pain feinting and retreating and circling and feinting forward again against the decision that's vascillating between waiting it out just a little longer or sucking it up and swallowing one of the ten-buck pills that promise relief, maybe, unless it's not a migraine, in which case I might as well take a ten-spot outside and set it on fire in the driveway. Maybe if I close my eyes. Maybe if I sip some Bailey's over ice. Maybe if I gouge my left eyeball out it will all go away.
Bailey's is winning so far.
One of the comments left on an online story this morning about the insane midnight shoppers suggested that people make charitable contributions in lieu of gifts. That sorta depends, I think. My ex-brother-and-sister-in-law memorably gave the charitable contribution route a bad name in their family one Christmas many years ago when they made contributions for everyone on their gift list. To their own favorite charity. The other ex-sister-in-law was downright pissed since she'd spent considerable time and money locating works by her brother's favorite potter for his gift. I guess she didn't see a bag of dog food in her name as being quite equivalent. Nice enough idea, clumsy execution; it helps for everyone to be on the same page.
Speaking of being on the same page, in other news, if I join a game of Facebook Scrabble you've started, it hurts my feelings when the game is summarily deleted. What the fuck is with people when it comes to Lexulous? Oh, your rating--which changes hourly, BTW--is too low/too high to be acceptable! Oh, your first word scored too many/too few points! You said hello! You didn't say hello! Delete! Delete! Seriously, people, I can't take this kind of rejection.
Hmmm. Maybe Relpax is the ticket.