Well, it's Christmas night and the revelry (for the day) has ended. We all were overwhelmed by the giving and receiving, the tearing of packages, the plastic garbage bags stuffed with the detritus of mass consumption. The food and drink was rich and plentiful and we all overindulged. (It's probably a bad idea to try on those new pants tonight --- they will be too small, I guarantee it.)
I listened to Christmas music on the ride home, until Mariah Carey came on, anyway. I don't know what to think of that. Should I be sick of it by now after listening to it every day for nearly a month, or should I feel desperate to listen, trying to stetch the season right up until the end?
Now that I'm home, I'm thinking about all the leftovers we brought home, despite the bloated, sleepy feeling I had just an hour ago. There's an NFL game on, though, so I suppose I should eat something, right?
Ah, what the hell. A ham sandwich sounds real good to me. I'll suffer eater's remorse later.
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