Yes, world, it’s almost Christmas. So here I sit, feeling sorry for myself. My face hurts from sinuses, my body hurts, my legs hurt, I feel lousy all over. It’s Christmas. I want to be happy. But I miss my husband, I miss my family, I miss my life…the one I had before it all went to shit. I can feel sorry for myself once in a while, can’t I? I want to go to my friends’ house tomorrow. I want to celebrate. I want to feel well enough to make the cheese crackers and take the shower and get dressed and go and have fun. I want to. I don’t know if I will. Sometimes, it just gets to me, all of it. I try really hard not to think about past Christmases, remember the excitement of putting things out from Santa for the girls. Planning the dinner, making the rolls to have with coffee and present openings. I miss that life. I miss that jerk Tom who left me and then died. What a lousy thing to do. I can’t even dream that he would come back some day, not that I’d want him to, but still. I miss him. I miss holding his hand. We always held hands. I miss my kids. So I just want to say a big f-ing shit, world, but I still hope you all have a happy Christmas.