It's a grey morning and I'm suddenly in possession of slightly less time for something I wanted to get done, and slightly more time for something I've GOT to get done. The temporal chute of December, watching it sprint towards the end of the year, is always slightly terrifying. Thanksgiving and Christmas are like massive lead weights on the calendar, distorting everything around them.
Similar to a large Siberian Forest Cat jumping on one's Star Wars Lego Advent Calendar.
You know, just as an absolutely random metaphor. |