I sent out a few Christmas cards a couple days ago. I woke up that morning with a runny nose and generally feeling like crap. Neither is much fun. The sneezing wasn't the Plague Du Jour, merely the regular bitchy sinus problem. The oversleeping was my own fault though. I always feel worse the later I crawl out of bed, even if I hadn't slept much the previous night. Between the oversleeping and over-sneezing, I was quite cranky indeed. The crankiness rose a few more levels on the crankometer when I made the mistake of looking out the window. White Christmas my ass. More like Friggin' Foggy Christmas.
So, anyway, about the cards. After intense negotiations between the Procrastination Devil on my left shoulder and the Organized Angel on my right shoulder, a compromise was reached: I'd write out the addresses and leave the personal notes for later when I'd be (hopefully) less cranky. Of course, once I start something like that, I usually finish it. And I did. There are a few more people I'd like to send cards to, but I don't have their mailing addresses. This whole mailing-Christmas-cards thing is kind of new to me. I guess this year is going to be a practice run for next Christmas when I'm away from all my friends and family. I'll be in a faraway land, romping with Ewoks.
I'll explain the Ewok thing later on. Right now, it's bedtime. And no, I don't have a thing for furries.