This is me last weekend pretending to be a rock star at our ward christmas party. (Live band, back-up singers and everything.)
Strangely enough if you were to take off all the makeup and replace the sparkly attire with a dirty sweatshirt but keep the expression exactly the same you would get a good idea of how I look (and feel) right this instant.
Verver just threw up on my bed (I mean air mattress). There are open suitcases waiting to be packed for our transcontinental flight in a day. There are piles of laundry waiting to be cleaned to put into the suitcases except in the case of the girls' clothes which don't exist because they have miraculously outgrown or destroyed every single item of clothing they possess. There are no christmas presents to be seen anywhere because they are all still at the store and have not actually been purchased yet. And there is no car to get me to the store because it is snugly parked at the mechanics. There is no Professor to be back-up because he is and has been and ever will be reading, revising and researching into the wee hours to get it all off his plate before our trip. When I think of getting out of here by Christmas I am ready to, in the words of Ebenezer, "decrease the surplus population" and by that I mean kill someone.
But I do have a very practical plan.
I am going to bed(air mattress).
Who knows? I may even be visited by three or four ghosts.
And lets hope I learn to "honour Christmas in my heart" even while vomit soaks my duvet.
God bless us, every one.