Christmas, coming like a freight train

Actually, Christmas is coming more like a Shoggoth barrelling down a subway tunnel. Or down an Antarctic cavern, crushing blind giant penguins in its path.*

Goals for the day accomplished: Wrote, addressed, stamped, and mailed Christmas cards. Most of them, anyway. But then I took my mom out grocery shopping, and then shopping at an arts and crafts store, and then we went out to dinner.

Goals for the day not accomplished: Did not bake double batches of three types of cookies. Did not finish making the gifts I will be passing out to some friends on Thursday. Did not finish Christmas shopping. Did not stay over the house, finish decorating the tree, dump the furnace, water the plants, or remove the ice from the water barrels in the back (holy crap! how could I have forgotten about that before freezing temperatures set in?)

So. I've got my work cut out for me tomorrow. Thursday evening is one get-together. Friday a long-lost friend, my old work partner, will be coming to town, so I will be heading out to a bar 35 miles away to see him. But I won't be there long, since Saturday I have to be back at work, which means a 3:00 AM wake-up call - unless it snows, in which case I'll have to be up much earlier. Sunday, too. And Monday is Christmas Eve.

Yeeesh. I'd better get busy.

Submitted for your enjoyment, courtesy of Gort:

I forgot how much I liked this song. But I do remember that when it came out in 1989, I thought "Wow, Cyndi Lauper's getting old." She was thirty-six. I was twenty-one. Hah!

*Yes. I'm cool.