I've wrapped all the presents that could be wrapped (one is just too big, and it's going in another box to be shipped so, what the heck). They're now sitting on the floor of my study, waiting to be shipped. I love presents. I'm a total twit that way. I love picking out something for someone that I just know they'll enjoy; something that will fill in a niche in their life rather than something that gets stuffed in a closet or can only be used during certain seasons. Those are the ideal things to find. I'm not saying that I'm 100% on target, but part of the joy is in the quest. The hard part is that, except for my husband, I don't get to see the real point in the whole sappy present thing: that unguarded instant when the person unwraps the present and there's that little gleam in their eye that says, "Neat!".

In other sappy news, the tree is on the table and has even been decorated. Yes, decorated. Ok, ok, the ornaments are of glass fish, seahorses, starfish, and a squid who refuses to perch on top like he should (very small tree). I hadn't realized it at the time, but it allows me to say (at a distance, for fear of having things thrown at me): Merry Squidmas!

*koff*

Right, all better now.