It’s Sunday evening and the temperature is dropping but I’ve got A Christmas Story playing on repeat and I can whip up some hot beverages so let’s settle in and talk about the week that was.
It’s been an interesting week.
For starters, the stars (or at least a parody horoscope account) foretold my imminent death, which will in turn confirm the existence of cryptids. As the resident mystical forest cryptid, I find this academically flattering but less than ideal for the spirit of the season.
Not the prophecy I expected for December, but here we are.
The AC decided to put on some kind of midseason performance. You might remember a few weeks ago it was only blowing hot air; well, last weekend it would only blow cold air – even as the temperature dropped into the low 30s. We managed to keep it around 60 inside (which Krystal loved) and then on Monday maintenance arrived, made noises that suggested the walls were being torn down and rebuilt, and after two and a half hours and a brand new thermostat, things finally worked again.
I do not trust it, but I accept it.
For now.
Tuesday was a Monday if ever there was one. It was raining, and I made it to work a few minutes early. There I was, sitting in the parking lot listening to the rain and waiting for whatever song was playing to finish and then I realized my hot tea was still sitting at home on the counter. I started the day cold, wet, and uncaffeinated, and from what I remember the day did not improve.
Of course, this week brought Krampusnacht. I made cookies, set out my boot, did all the proper observances (including wearing my Krampus perfume) and Krampus passed me by.
Unfortunately, he also passed over several people who were truly deserving of sticks and baskets, so perhaps he was simply overwhelmed by the workload this year.
You’d think he could prioritize . . .
I’ve also been slowly decorating for Yule. Little bits here and there, building on things that bring me warmth and sparkle, and right on schedule, Spotify Wrapped arrived to affirm everything we already knew about me:
- 27,536 minutes (19 days, which feels low)
- 276 genres, because apparently I sample music like a crow in a grocery store parking lot – not that that’s a bad thing
- Top genres: Midwest Emo, Indie Folk, Lo-Fi Beats, Pop, Southern Gothic – The LoFi beats are from my morning routines and I’d argue that there’s little distinction between indie folk and southern gothic but the numbers are accurate.
- Listening age: 37, meaning I am spiritually trapped in the early 2000s, which hey, that tracks.
- Top song: “Existentialism On Prom Night” by Straylight Run
- Top artists: MCR, Taylor Swift, Rabbitology, Chappell Roan, Fall Out Boy
Are we surprised? No. Not really.
On Friday I made baked rigatoni with sausage. I didn’t take pictures but it was good.
I’ve also been inching closer to finishing my current journal — the one I started a year or two ago and have been filling in fits and spurts. There are about twenty pages left. Will I finish it by the end of the year? We’ll see.
Place your bets.
In the spirit of spontaneity, my wife and I went out Christmas shopping for each other today. We wandered stores, picked out not-so-secret things, and then had lunch at Red Robin: pretzel bites, a mushroom burger for me, and an Oreo milkshake we split thanks to a birthday reward.
I also had about three glasses of water because I was getting dehydrated.
When we got home I immediately took a nap because the dropping temperature made my back say “absolutely not” so I’ve curled up with the heating pad and A Christmas Story has been playing on repeat ever since.
Next week is Tattoo Week for my Discworld meets MCR birthday present to myself, and if you’re so inclined to contribute to that experience here’s a link to my Venmo.
No pressure. I hope you come back next week to like the photos.
How about you? What have you been up to?
Running In My Head 