This is the part where I try to forget about promising the best Christmas day for my family by doing the best I can otherwise I would perpetually feel like a loser.
This Christmas day was extremely forgettable. It was arguably the worst one yet, even worse than the year when I just slept through Noche Buena. I bought whip cream to accent each bomb that went out the kitchen but it turns out, you need more than an airtight can dispensing fat to have the best Christmas ever! Who could have known?
Every deposit of optimism in my whole physical layer is being tapped or I might implode into a giant, negative void that will absorb everyone else's happiness.
Except for a facial cleaning and mindless consummation of calories bereft of any magic quality, yesterday was an especially sad day. A sucky normal day is better than a sucky special day.
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