That’s for all you who are finished.
I’m not quite at the ‘racing through the mall throwing random things in the cart in the hopes that I’ll find appropriate gifts in the mess afterwards’ stage, but we’re getting close. It all depends on how tomorrow goes. Hardware store for tarps and a staple gun, plus whatever catches my eye. Grocery store, because I’m apparently a masochist, for all my dominant tendencies. Bulk foods store, for containers for bus driver presents. Mall, for any other random presents I happen to see (including a gift certificate to the lingerie store for the 12 year old’s friend–seriously?) Stop at the post office to pick up two parcels. Stop at the liquour store, because I’m going to need it. Then home to batten down the hatches and prepare to be snowed in for a day or two. The darn thing about living on the east coast of Canada is that we get storms that come up the Eastern Seaboard, and storms that cross the country to rain (or snow) on our parade. Twice the fun.
But all this running around has seriously cut into writing time and the only thing I can do is hope I get some down time over Christmas to catch up. If I can get all the presents done this weekend (or by Tuesday, if I have to), then I can just stay home, except for one last foray to the grocery store, where I shall wield my shopping cart like a tank as I battle the hordes of Christmas zombies to get enough supplies that I and the kitten will survive for a week or so without having to venture out. (I’ve been stocking up on ground-to-ground missiles for a while, just in case–grocery stores are bad enough at the best of times).
In the meantime, I’d like to say a thank you to everyone who’s bought a copy of Christmas Goes Analog. And if you haven’t, Hearts on Fire reviewed it yesterday. The review can be found here. And it’s still on sale at Loose Id for $4.49 right now, so if you like the review, grab it at that price–I think you have until Tuesday.
And that’s it for me, because I think I’m about to turn into a pumpkin, and I plan to be on the road by 7:30 tomorrow morning, which means feeding the old pony around 6:30. Ugh. But I shall sleep in on Sunday. And, if I’m lucky, Monday too. (I’ll be doing my storm dance Sunday night–you may want to avert your eyes.)