OK, I guess Christmas is kind of officially over, since yesterday was Epiphany. We Catholics celebrated by moving it to Sunday, when it was completely overshadowed by a far more important event: my birthday. (Just kidding, God. A joke. Please don't strike me dead.) The Lutherans, however, celebrated last night they way they celebrate everything - with a potluck! Then they had the most enormous conflagration I had ever seen during their "Burnin' O' the Greens" ceremony, when they ceremonially burn the greens from Christmas. Since I get a rash from touching pine trees, it probably wasn't a very good idea to breathe in so much pine ash, but I did survive. Barely.
At home, my Christmas was wonderful, but it was ridiculous at work. My boss gave me food I'm allergic to, and everyone else gave me presents in inverse proportion to how much they ask me to do the rest of the year, so the worst slave driver gave me nothing. I got Christmas cards from the company that sells us coffee, a hotel who wants our business, and a former trainee who is a devout Moslem. Seriously, I sometimes feel like my life is being scripted by a sitcom writer. OK, Writer in the Sky, can the next plotline involve something more exciting, like winning the lottery?
Famous Hat
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