unbidden and utterly premature, i mentally rearrange the living room in anticipation of our new chair. i feel like a slave to my own impulses. maybe i shouldn't feel so strongly; this is my grown up christmas present.
bizarre: why do we, as non-christians, celebrate christmas? my parents believe, in their own fashion, and his father believes, while his mother does not. i've never asked her about it; because she married a man who nearly became a man of the cloth? how could she object, with little kids growing up in a deeply judeo-christian rural town?
it hadn't occurred to me: are we going to celebrate christmas with our (future) children? i'd rather not inculcate them with beliefs i don't, on the whole, admire. but the holiday season is INESCAPABLE (in our capitalism driven society)! maybe we'll celebrate the solstice until they are old enough to do research projects culminating in the celebration of hannukah-or-christmas-or-kwanzaa-fill-in-the-blank holiday that year.
maybe i'm too pc.
i would like to say for the record: i hate almost all desk drawers. they just collect shit. fuck that.
of course pervy cat would vomit on the freshly laundered tablecloth & runner. of course.