Two days until Christmas. I don't think I'm ready yet. Today I am one of the handful of folks at work... I'd say "pretending to be busy," but I actually do have a pile of stuff I need to finish before being able to blow off the rest of the day with a marginally clear conscience.
On the plus side, only a few people are left to finish up shopping for. On the downside, I'm not quite sure what to get. That's the peril of last-minute shopping, although, to my defense, this was brought on more by external forces converging than my own ineptitude. Insofar as failing to finish shopping in July doesn't count as ineptitude, of course.
Damn. Every damn year I swear I'm going to buy things throughout the year, as I see them and as I have the money, spreading it out instead of doing the 11th-hour charge that usually means spending more than I want on things that might not be perfect, but that fill the space under the tree and are thus acceptable. I've made a few feeble stabs at that over the years, but that's netted me maybe a handful of pre-bought presents that take up space in the closet for months. And those are just the ones I manage not to forget about. It also feels kind of risky. What looks like the perfect present in July might make me wonder what the hell I was thinking come December.
Of course, I'll try it next year. I really, really will.