All I want for Christmas is you

It is Christmas Eve, though it doesn't feel like it. I spent most of the afternoon watching Dexter, not exactly holiday fare, to be sure, but I enjoyed it. It was a quiet day, overall. I did some yoga, went for a run, took a nap. Simple and nourishing. No sexy adventures. Just a quiet day.

I emailed holiday greetings to some of my contacts at work yesterday. In all but one, I wished the recipient a Merry Christmas. I debated whether I should offer up a "Happy Holidays" greeting instead, lest I offend or alienate anyone, but decided against it. Know why? Because all I'm doing is offering them a Merry Christmas. If someone is offended by my peaceful greeting, then they're overly sensitive, in my estimation. There is such a thing as being too politically correct, and even though most people are so because of good intentions, but I don't need to tell you what the road to Hell is paved with.

The one person I spared the "Merry Christmas" greeting I was pretty sure was Jewish. Judging by her reply, which was laden with references to Christmas and Jesus, I was wrong on that count.

Upon finishing up my yoga session yesterday, I realized it was the perfect time to set up my prank on Janelle, who hadn't come home from work yet. I had decided a few days ago that I was going to fashion some pillows and blankets on our futon in the shape of a body to fool Janelle into thinking someone was napping. I got to work and was proud of the finished product. For all intents and purposes, it looked as if a slight individual, most likely a woman, was side sleeping on our futon.

To sweeten the pot, I broke out a couple of wine glasses, poured a tiny bit of wine in each and left them on the dining room table. The entire time I laughed insanely at the prospect of Janelle coming home, seeing the wine glasses and then the sleeping person, and wondering how it all came to be. Meanwhile, I'd be up in my room, giggling like a school girl. I thought about leaving a condom wrapper on the floor where she could see it, but decided to keep it simple.

She'd been home for a bit before I came downstairs. I realized I had two ways of approaching the prank. I could tell her the sleeper was someone I took home with me. I didn't go too far with that line of thought because I knew whatever story I concocted would crumble before I got two sentences out. There was no way I'd be able to keep a straight face. The other approach was to tell her I had no idea who the individual was, that I came home to the same scene she did. That would mean Rich was the one having the afternoon party.

I ended up fessing up pretty quickly that it was a prank. When Janelle asked me who was sleeping on our futon, I couldn't contain my smile. All I could manage was to tell her the person was with me and that she should follow me into the other room to see who it was. I bent over the "body", shook it, and then pulled off the blankets to reveal the truth. Oh, it was fun seeing Janelle's face.

I tucked in the sleeper again, hoping to get more legs out of the prank with Rich. I have no idea what he thinks. I was in the kitchen with him last night, on the phone. All of a sudden, he interrupted my conversation and said, "Hey, uh, I'm going into work early tomorrow - it's the last day I'll have to go in that early -- and, uh, could you, uh, just, you know, keep that in mind, uh, not that you've been noisy at night, but, you know, just keep that in mind. You don't, you know, have to, uh, tip toe, around or anything, but, uh, you know, I just want to make sure I, uh, you know, uh get enough sleep."

It took what seemed about three minutes for him to get that out. The only reason I can think that he interrupted my conversation to tell me something he knew I already knew was because of the "sleeper" in the other room. Maybe he thought the house was gonna be rocking late into the night, or something. Anyway, the sleeper is still sleeping and, as far as I know, Rich is unaware that it's not a real human under the blanket. If he does think it's a person, one thing is for sure: he or she is a champion sleeper. Or dead.
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I'm going to my parent's house early in the morning before my sister and her family arrive so I can help my parents with their computer. From there, it's off to my grandmother's house. I hope it'll be a good day. I think it will be.

Despite it being a rather shitty holiday season for me, I think it may prove to be one of the more fruitful ones. I believe I'm on the verge of some positive changes, in fact I've already instituted one or two. I feel good, more hopeful than I've been in a while. Clearer. Stronger. Things are getting better.

Merry Christmas, readers.