Well, the holidays are finally over. Except for a couple of returns I've yet to make, my trips to Marshalls and T.J. Maxx have come to an end. The cookie tins that used to occupy an entire countertop have been whittled down to one lonely canister housing the last of the sugar dusted reindeer. Thank God. The tree and its decorative cousins are still around but their days are numbered. Now it's time to return to winter reality in the Midwest.
I hate January and February. There, I said it. Long, icy, frigid, snowy months with nothing to show for them except Valentine's Day, a lame holiday designed to make women fatter and men feel inadequate. Once the holidays, full of parties, family get-togethers and food, are over, I have absolutely no use for the rest of winter. I think someone in my family must have mated at some point with a grizzly, as all I want to do this time of year is put on my pajamas and hibernate. (Okay, I know grizzlies don't possess pajamas but, hey, it's cold and that's the only analogy my frozen brain could come up with).
On a positive note, I am encouraged that I have actually fulfilled my 2009 new year resolution by completing the first draft of my book. While I hunker down at home, the editing should (if I stop procrastinating) keep me busy until Spring allows me to venture outside. Until then, I'll have to content myself with the fact that the Bears are in the playoffs. Now there's something to look forward to.
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