Blah humbug.

When did Christmas become more chore than cheer? The tree has been up in my house for like two weeks, and I haven't wanted to go near it. And it's dumb, because it only takes about an hour to decorate. (We're becoming more judicious in our choices of what goes up. This year mostly consisted of my mom holding something up, me sneering, and her putting it back.) So just tonight I finally acknowledged I was being an asshole and spent time after dinner putting up the ornaments. (I got out of hanging all the crap around the house, because mom did that over the weekend.) But once we got going, it was nice, because it really does remind you of stuff. There's the dough ornaments that I made in first grade, the little angel dog that we got when Cocoa died, and the ones I called really ugly that my dad apparently loves.