Going to work in the mornings in December – a little depressing. After freezing my ass off in a jacket while scraping the frost off of my windshield (because I pretend to be an optimist and like to hope that it will be warmer than it is) I get to drive through a neighborhood of deflated Frosty the Snowmen and droopy gingerbread houses, their air pumps unplugged, turning my morning commute into a journey through a ridiculous, melted winter wonderland.

This has actually been happening since the day after Thanksgiving. My family has never been much for house decorating during the holiday season, or for Halloween, or Easter (do people decorate for Easter? They seem to make those inflatable things for every occasion, so probably), so I may seem a little baffled. Forgive me, but on the day after Thanksgiving, I was considering staying in bed to digest the pile of food I ate the day before. The only reason doing anything related to Christmas crossed my mind was because I turned on the television and saw a commercial for Black Friday sales. Hanging up lights? Putting up a Christmas tree? No.

I sound a little Scrooge-y here, don’t I? I’m not, really. I understand, I suppose, that giant inflatable candycanes and getting in house-decorating-wars with neighbors makes people happy.

But seeing it during the day, out of action, is kind of a total bummer.