Christmas inches closer and closer. This year, I was able to throw together a few Christmas cards, handmade by yours truly, and got them out in the mail last weekend. Here's a sampling of the fare:
If you didn't receive one in the mail, I am sorry. Perhaps I just don't love you enough (although I probably just didn't have enough cards...there are only so many glittery snowmen to go around! Also, I ran out of envelopes. It was a very lean Christmas card year that I blame completely on my lack of craft space.)
Is any of this making sense? I have been down with a sore throat/cough/runny nose/cold/black plague of some kind for a few days now. I stayed home from work yesterday and, thanks to a Nyquil-induced coma, I slept until 3 p.m. Yes, that's three o'clock in the afternoon. Then I got up, did some laundry, wrapped a few final Christmas presents, and completely avoided the editing work sitting in my inbox. But I did make dinner. Although I completely avoid all responsibility if the rest of the household comes down with a similar black plague.
Just when I was feeling better, Husband and I headed into work this morning (a few hours late due to the icy road conditions). We putted along at a reasonable speed, only to be passed by a Jeep which, in the middle of passing, spun out of control coming inches from hitting my poor little red car. I think Husband really scared the other driver when he stepped out of our car and crossed the road to the ditch where the Jeep had come to rest. He was just going to check and see if the man was okay, but he does look rather intimidating with his newly shorn head (my doing) and bulky coat. The man scurried through the field and went on, seemingly unhurt, only to pass another car only a few miles ahead (IDIOT).
So, as a wrap-up to this post that I've completely lost control of: If you didn't receive a spectacular Christmas card, handmade by moi, make me love you more and better luck next year; Avoid my bodily emissions at all costs lest you be stricken with the plague; don't be an idiot driving out on the roads because you will die or some fellow driver will kill you.
That is all. I wish I'd brought some Nyquil to work...