The past week has been busy at work. I haven't done much at home as a result, because I'm always tired. The Christmas(tm) rush is similar to the battle of Helm's Deep in the Two Towers, except with most of the orcs replaced with wandering shoppers. It's amazing how people with average body types can obstruct an aisle so I can't get by when I'm trying to help a customer. How many times have I wished I could do the wall run from Jedi Outcast to get past these human drain clogs. They range from staggeringly intelligent to sub-moneran, but as long as they pay with American currency and leave promptly with minimal fuss, I have no quarrel with them.

I finished wrapping my gifts to my nuclear family just now. There are some people who can wrap with the precision of a Swiss watch maker, and I am not one of those people. My wrapping jobs are more of a Matisse style. This is to say that if the paper covers most of the item and any obvious logos and stays taped together even under mild shaking, I count it a success.

To all (three of) my blog readers, I wish you a happy eight consecutive days in December (possibly including the first day of January) that encompass your respective celebration. And a lump of coal for Saddam, since we took all of his oil.