For some reason, I'm having a mental pity party. And I'm enjoying it. I feel like sitting around the house all day in flannel pants and big sweatshirt (the official clothing choice when I become grand potentate of the earth), large coffee, and the CD changer loaded with the following: Robert Johnson's Complete Recordings, Nirvana's In Utero, and Son Volt's Trace. That should do it.

To make myself feel better I made my Christmas list. It's in ink.

It didn't help all that much.