lite1x
"It's hard to dance with the devil on your back"
Letter to Santa
Dear Santa Claus,
This is a mite late, I know, but it's been that kind of year. I guess I deserve coal in my stocking, but please make it that kind that burns clean, with minimal carbon footprint. I didn't make the usual Christmas want list this year, and almost didn't decorate the house. It took 3 days just to find the star that goes atop the tree to remind me why we have Christmas. It was in a box of ornaments that I nearly tripped over a dozen times.
And I have given you no help at all. We, meaning Linda mostly, made a few gifts for family members, but nothing so big it would need to come down a chimney in a sack. Forgive me if you can Santa, but after hearing about the thousands of people in my field alone who are out of work, including some too close to home, I just wasn't in the mood to spend money I might not have and that others already don't have.
But I confess, I do have a short want list, so here goes: jobs for Tracey and Michele and the blue-million other journalists jettisoned by their jet-setting corporate brass-hats. A swift recovery for the world's economy and a 2nd shift minimum wage job at Burpin' Burger Bistro for the robber-baron financial slicks whose greed greased the slide into this economic abyss we're in.
Still there? No one should have to choose between food and medicine, so fixing that is on my list for you. I could go on, but you get the idea.
My Christmas present arrived early this year. My 90 year old mom, who swore she would never set foot out of her house to travel after Dad passed away, is at my brother's house a 10-12 hour drive from where she was staying, and she made the trip in a car with two small children along with their parents. Considering her physical and emotional challenges, that is a miracle in my book.
Emailing this to you now before you get the sleigh packed. I'll be following you on norad and twitter.
Your friend
(the one who used to want Lionel trains)
ps. no milk and cookies this year. it's part of a wellness program
This is a mite late, I know, but it's been that kind of year. I guess I deserve coal in my stocking, but please make it that kind that burns clean, with minimal carbon footprint. I didn't make the usual Christmas want list this year, and almost didn't decorate the house. It took 3 days just to find the star that goes atop the tree to remind me why we have Christmas. It was in a box of ornaments that I nearly tripped over a dozen times.
And I have given you no help at all. We, meaning Linda mostly, made a few gifts for family members, but nothing so big it would need to come down a chimney in a sack. Forgive me if you can Santa, but after hearing about the thousands of people in my field alone who are out of work, including some too close to home, I just wasn't in the mood to spend money I might not have and that others already don't have.
But I confess, I do have a short want list, so here goes: jobs for Tracey and Michele and the blue-million other journalists jettisoned by their jet-setting corporate brass-hats. A swift recovery for the world's economy and a 2nd shift minimum wage job at Burpin' Burger Bistro for the robber-baron financial slicks whose greed greased the slide into this economic abyss we're in.
Still there? No one should have to choose between food and medicine, so fixing that is on my list for you. I could go on, but you get the idea.
My Christmas present arrived early this year. My 90 year old mom, who swore she would never set foot out of her house to travel after Dad passed away, is at my brother's house a 10-12 hour drive from where she was staying, and she made the trip in a car with two small children along with their parents. Considering her physical and emotional challenges, that is a miracle in my book.
Emailing this to you now before you get the sleigh packed. I'll be following you on norad and twitter.
Your friend
(the one who used to want Lionel trains)
ps. no milk and cookies this year. it's part of a wellness program
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