I am packing. Well, I’m not – I’m avoiding packing, as you can surely tell.

I can’t wait for Christmas – a few days surrounded by my loving, mad family. Because for the non-religious at least, the nearest you get to a spiritual point about Christmas is that it’s a time for family, to crawl back into the bosom of familiarity, to utterly relax among people who uncomplicatedly, unconditionally love you. And so that is what I am doing.

I’m just very tired, that’s all; honestly, I’m fine.


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