So, tell me again when the world is supposed to end?
You know, that whole Mayan thing about the calendar running out of days or pin-up girls or whatever. See, the thing is, if the world really is gonna end, I honestly don’t think I have the energy to get out there and Christmas shop. For nothing.
I’m no good at it at the best of times anyway.
I suppose I could give out the presents early, especially considering I still have a box full of last year’s presents that never made it to their intended recipients. They’re around here somewhere (except for the one or two bags of gourmet jelly beans I accidentally stress ate by mistake).