Merry Christmas
If you had told me on Thanksgiving I'd be spending Christmas in my moose onesie with the drop seat (a game changer in onesie pajamas, let me tell you) drinking Jack & sours with Beef Bourguignon simmering away, I wouldn't have disagreed. If you had said I'd be doing it with only the cats, I probably would have looked at you funny. Yet here we are. I slept until 11:00, and it was delicious. I'm in my fuzzy moose onesie, and Zen the Cat is next to me on the couch. My third Jack & sour is on the coffee table, and my Beef Bourguignon, this year made with tips of filet mignon thanks to a neighbor, is simmering away and smelling delectable. And I'm alone, as I have been for most of my adult Christmases. I've never been in a relationship on Christmas, my birthday (which is in 3 days), New Years, or Valentines. I will admit that last night after the festivities of Christmas Eve services were over, I felt a deep loneliness like I haven't felt in a very ...