I probably shouldn't post this sort of thing on Christmas Eve when everybody is all Joy to the World and what all, but then I never did quite manage to catch hold of that Christmas spirit. I should be sitting in a restaurant right now with family, feeling stuffed and satisfied and exchanging gifts and having an all around pleasant time. Instead I'm snowed in, not writing because I'm blocked, and fighting off a bout of depression. Holiday blues, whatever. I'm bummed. I'm sad because my Christmas Eve plans went all to hell, I'm sad because I don't have a significant other to spend the holidays with and the aforementioned plans were designed to distract me from that fact but now I'm sitting here alone ruminating on my aloneness and all the possible causes thereof. And I'm also sad and a touch irritated because a dear friend is apparently pissed off at me and I'm really not sure what I did to deserve her ire, other than that my attempt to remain neutral and not raise it in the first place backfired, and as I'm not sure what caused it I have no idea how to fix it or even if I'm the one who needs to do the fixing. Anyway, this is me, having a somewhat crappy Christmas Eve. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. And hopefully whoever's reading this is having a much better holiday than mine. But me, I'm considering the merits of spending the rest of the holiday in a Nyquil-induced coma. Would that I could stay that way through Valentine's day. But then I'd miss Buffy.