We're in the apartment tonight, as we decided not to drive to Wisconsin in this weather. We're hoping to get on the road tomorrow. I have to work "the job" on Friday and Saturday, because I took some snow days. I'm hoping I can talk the Man into dinner out. Just a little festivity, please.
I don't send holiday cards. I never got into the tradition. I'm thinking that there's lots of people like me. I love getting them, though. Especially when they have photos of an adorable child, like Ms. Z! What I don't get is the holiday letter, especially when it contains information that your friends would rather not know. The Man has gotten two priceless ones. A few years ago, he showed me one that an old girlfriend sent to his sisters. It had a long history of the past year's health issues. This old girlfriend, who's identity I did not know until I saw the letter, works in my profession. I knew that much about her, and had told the Man that it was a small world, and there was a good chance I would know who she was. Turns out that she is a good friend of an former work colleague. He got one this year from some friends who had moved out of state. This letter had detailed medical information. Gyne medical information. I don't see the how uterine fibroids relate to the holiday season, but maybe that's just me.
A few months ago, the Man showed up at a book event, and met a friend, who sort of outed how much I write about him on the blog. He was not pleased. He said that the blog was like those holiday letters that I can't stand, only every day.
I must remember to leave off medical stuff.
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