Say "Ah Bum-hug!" and you might ruin my buzz.

Holy gaudy grandma sweater, Batman! Christmas is just around the corner and I don’t have the unshakeable desire to cut off my own ears with the broken shards of a glass ornament to avoid hearing ‘Santa Baby’ again. Could it be? Has the Spirit of the Season taken over my cynical soul and transformed me into the annoying lady at the deli counter who tells everyone to have a Merry Christmas? Nope, but frighteningly close. I recently found myself feeling giddy over the idea of making cookies shaped like snowmen and bells. Cookies just taste better when made into nonsensical shapes. It’s a fact. Look it up, doubter. I’ve plugged in my festive light-covered artificial plant life almost every day of December. I’ve enjoyed spending my hard earned money on ungrateful whiners (children… yours, mine, theirs, etc.) I miss the irritating bell ringing of the really scary donation dudes at every grocery store entrance. I’m confused. If I start melting or I get an enlarged heart because of some sort of “love and sharing” disease, I’m gonna be pissed.