n'est pas

I am trying to think of any single little redeeming value that christmas could possibly have in store for me and I am finding that there ain't nothing at the bottom of the barrel except more stress and guilt, druck und schuld, druck und schuld.

So far my vacation has been anything but as I become my own worst version, and the real me watches from third-person.
I don't want any gifts you people, I don't want to buy you gifts I don't even know you well, I just want to sleep in and wake up and be normal and be like that for my vacation. And maybe eat a sandwich or go for a goddamn walk with any prospective dogs because I have the energy to, not forcing shit down staring at the wall with that dull dizzy headache and wondering why my credit card maxed out and wondering-

so yeah so far the highlight of the season has been this picture that kevin drew last night:



he claims it is his worst drawing ever but then he drew a turnip wearing a hat that was supposed to be santa.
in conclusion, he is now getting me a big bucket of nothing for christmas, minus the big bucket part.