No rest for the weary. And I am weary. But. My house is Christmas decked (mostly), clean (mostly), and ready for 25 of our nearest and dearest to descend upon it tomorrow (not really but let's pretend).
There is a giant turkey slathered in butter in my refrigerator awaiting the slow roast in the morning. What's that you say? Thanksgiving was yesterday? Yes, yes it was. But I have traded one insanity for another, and it avoid traveling hither and yon eating multiple meal on Thanksgiving proper, I will be hosting in law Thanksgiving, Turkey Round 2, the Turkening on the following Saturday here and forever more probably. This is year 5 I believe, so there's no getting out of it now.
I've also managed to get a fair amount of Christmas shopping buttoned up, save a few hard to gift folks, but I'll get 'em. So maaaaaybe I'll get to slow down and enjoy some holiday cheer after tomorrow. What's that you say? Christmas cards? Rats.
This is how tired I am tonight though. I ordered pizza delivery. I never do that. But the thought of cooking anything, or even going somewhere to pick something up was too overwhelming to stomach (pun intended). Chris practically passed out when he saw the pizza boxes.
I believe I've made my level of exhaustion quite clear by these semi-coherent ramblings. Off to lay down until the unfathomable, all-too-soon pre-dawn hour when I have to hoist that Volkswagen Beetle sized bird into the oven. Sigh. Then I can sleep until New Year's, right?