Boring

Nothing's happening at work. Nothing from the Whatever. I'm heading home to indulge in laundry and mashed potatoes in a couple of hours. I wish I had something to report, but not much is happening. I've had the overwhelming desire to spend most of my time asleep for the past few days, which I probably won't get to indulge in since my Mom loves to wake me up around 9am to make some damn coffee and turn on the parade. Does Katie Couric not know the meaning of "day off?"
It's kind of too bad I'm in such a funk, because I usually look forward to the debauchery on the paternal side of the family. They yell, they laugh, they nag. They always have good stories. But I'm afraid that this year will leave me especially susceptible to tearing up at any veiled reference to the death of my father (right before Thanksgiving, nineteen years ago) and perhaps losing it completely. Ah well. I will soldier on, regardless. And then I shall drown my sorrows in massive debt the next day as the Christmas season begins in earnest. Retail therapy, indeed!
So a happy Thanksgiving to you and yours. Eat some extra pie for me.