I'm sorry for your troubles. I really am.

But look at it this way - at least you're not turning 47 this weekend. (I'm guessing.)

December used to be fun. Now... not so much.

Testify, Brother chillmost. Oh wait...
You're in Germany for Christmas. Scrooge!

Does that mean it should be Bah Hamburg?

Bad Homburg!

Punched in the face? Is that the best ya got?

I'd like to be summarily executed by a firing sqaud -- screw the cigarette, and blindfolds are for pussies -- rather than go through the holidays. I'm rarely sadder and angrier (except maybe for my ex-anniversary or Father's Day).

A) being punched 10 times in the face and waking up on January 1st or

B) going through December and dealing with all of the bullshit that it entails...

If I could negotiate a reduction of punches from 10 down to five or so, I'd seriously give it some thought.

There are two things about this time of year that really just get on my last nerve. First is the sheer number of people out shopping. I dislike crowds in stores, and it seems to be just a little bit more of a trigger for me every year. Second is the goddamn christmas music. I hate - hate hate hate hate HATE - the songs that get trotted out every December with a white-hot passion that, after my death, will burn eternally among the stars. How grown adults can not only put up with the stuff, but actually enjoy it is beyond me.

Yes, I am in Germany. Weihnachtsmarkt und Glühwein. Woopdy frickin' doo. Thankfully the Glühwein, when administered in proper dosages, can numb the pain.

The stores all close between 6 and 7 pm which means if you work full time, there is no time to shop. Weekends? Madhouse. That's when all the full-time workers shop. All the quaint little medieval street are Verstopft beyond capacity. Yay! And Lord knows how polite Germans are when things are not efficient and in Ordnung!

If you have people sending parcels from outside the country and they check the wrong box on the fed-ex form, this means you have to go to the customs office deal with surly bureaucrats who wield their small sliver of power bestowed upon them by the state, over your head. Wow! And I get to pay duty on your own gift. So much for being surprised. Did I mention the Zollamt is only open until 3:30pm? Grrr.

Okay.

Thanks for letting me do that.

I feel better.