The good news about the holiday season is that it favors the lazy writer.
No one has time to stop and read your drivel so you reason to yourself that you should probably stop churning it out long enough to give people a break from the ceaseless onslaught of junk.
The creative gears have started to sputter and will eventually grind to a halt by the 24th when I know I will be running around in frenzy trying to tie up all the loose ends caused by an entire year of procrastination and bad choices.
Soon we’ll see the last year of an odd decade expire and I’ll sit around and wonder where the hell my life went because it seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye.
I’ve grown to dread the quick-moving dials on every clock in my life. My kids are growing up far too quickly and those lines on my face are becoming more deeply etched with every passing day.
But let’s not forget the little things that brighten our days like uninhibited neighbors who shower in full view of the entire block and houses that just fall right the fuck off of themselves.
So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m thankful for more good times than bad no matter how fast-moving they may be.