No, not oil in a lamp or loaves and fishes or the great pumpkin. I lost four pounds since Thanksgiving. My pants fit again.
Thanks, lack of interest in things I previously enjoyed. Including snacks and booze. And I suppose some credit goes to trudging to work in the snow instead of driving, because we can’t give up our precious parking spot to actually use the car. Oh no. Someone might plunk a busted-up chiffarobe in the space, and if we move it when we come back, we’ll lose our windshield to a brick. It’s Somerville, not some medieval fiefdom. But you wouldn’t know it from all the lawn chairs. And the best part? The snow is pretty much gone. The douche bags down the street who never use their garage and driveway will be claiming street space until motherloving April.
I was going to make a holiday card, but maybe not.