Bastards.

Today: off. Slept most of the day. Slept, and re-read The Amber Spyglass, and played with my rats. Good times.

Tomorrow: working.
I will have no patience for fools tomorrow. The gloves are comin' off.

Now, one might say that the time to be kindest to all, even morons, is Christmas eve, when (supposedly; run with me here) the world is hushed in gentle radiant expected remembrance of the birth of the most popular God-child... a night when animals can speak and stars shine brightly down over all the earth, bathing us all in a divine silver light and we are again reminded of our own mortality, our own fault, our own grace.

Tomorrow, I should be patient and sweet, gently reminding people of the real reason for the season, addressing their most human elements.

Should.

However.

It's fucking Christmas eve.
If people are rude, bitchy, short-tempered, etc., I'm a-gonna let 'em have it. Seriously. C'mon, y'all know you should have gotten your shopping done before the day before the single biggest consumeristic holiday of the year. Don't be surprised and pissed off when we don't have what you need in, or we can't promise shipping, or when the lines are long, or whatever.

It's fucking Christmas eve and I'm working, goddammit, and I ain't taking shit from NO ONE.


Also: I wonder if I can convince my deeply blasphemous atheist boyfriend to take me to Midnight Mass at the Cathedral in St. Paul...?
I really want to go, but I know he wouldn't enjoy it and he would probably manage to kill the joy and wonder I would feel. Hmmm.
Things to consider.