Told you I wasn’t quitting forever. #smug
As you sit, warm and snug and—if you’re truly living your best life, drunkover—I am hiding in the basement trying to ignore the horrors my menfolk are perpetrating above me. They are, in fact, dismantling Christmas. I am writing to you from last night, through a haze of tears as I contemplate the prospect of a parlour without a tree, a mantle without stockings, windows without cheery candles to welcome weary travelers to the hospitality we would, in theory, provide. (I mean, I’ve never really found a weary traveler on my doorstep who wasn’t expected, but I like to think that as long as my candles are burning I’d bring them in; feed them, shelter them… try to ignore their canned-air and baby vomit airplane smell.)
In short, today I need a little motivationality. Good thing I have some saved up, right?
For those of you who aren’t yet used to this… I’m sorry. Also, it’s sort of this secret club thing, so you will have to swear your undying loyalty, take a blood oath, and also click this link to learn what Not Exactly Motivational is all about—you know, the history, our mission, why the actual post is after the jump… but not why I stopped updating regularly because, as I’ve just realized, I was too fucking lazy to put that bit in there. Damn. I’ll have to add that. Later. When I’m done killing zombies, because that’s how I’m working through my feelings about what’s happening upstairs. For those of you who already know the drill, spare a thought for me while you continue on in your usual fashion, won’t you?