I have finally figured out what to give people this year. I may be cheating, sort of, but I have my reasons. One of which is I no longer like the dress I planned on sewing for the office Christmas party and I need all the time to break through this frustrating place called square one.

I did start sewing the dress but I kept hearing scary words, entangled with the noises my sewing machine was making. The words were “You would look like you’re going to a funeral in this dress.” I could go for the goth look but I aim to look festive. I’m too old to feign juvenile indifference at a party.

When those words are not running through my head, here are what I keep hearing, “Wait for your parents and let them offer to have your TV fixed.” Yes, my TV conked out. And hopefully, my parents visit us for Christmas.

Apparently, I got myself a holiday-induced schizophrenia.

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