It still doesn't seem much like Christmas, even though I am going home in two sleeps.
Christmas shopping this year seems haphazard, not the usual exciting adventure to find the perfect presents for people. Instead of the desire to trim the tree, I've had the desire to read journal articles. Instead of baking Christmas treats to send out to friends across the country, I've been wishing I could write faster and go to conferences in Montreal, London (U.K) and San Francisco. Instead of watching Christmas movies, I've been thinking about Marshall McLuhan's theories. I'm a bit overwhelmed. I know the essay I submitted the other day wasn't my best, but I just didn't care anymore. The thought of submitting three more essays by the middle of January, combined with travel to Ontario and Saskatchewan for the next two weeks, is terrifying. How am I ever going to get everything done?
Instead of doing schoolwork most evenings, I've been happily curled up with the Boy on the couch or out with my wonderful girlfriends eating brie and drinking vanilla apple mojitos. Ignorance is bliss, they say. Maybe a bit of Baileys in my coffee (or some eggnog) would bring some Christmas cheer?