Yes, Jeffrey, there are Christmas miracles. This is a blog.

I know most of you forgot what a blog is since I haven’t posted here since late October, which Jeff has so subtly reminded me of once or twice.

A day.

For weeks.

On end.

But with it being the holidays, I guess the best present I can give you is, well, me. So here we go.

Christmas blows.

Honestly, it’s just not a holiday I care all that much about. And before my Islamist followers get their hopes up, it has nothing to do with religion. I could care less what reason you have for celebrating a holiday this time of year or what god you pray to or how many camels your family owns. It doesn’t matter either way. We’re all here on this planet together and we should respect that we’ll be different.

And with that, people should respect that I think Christmas blows. It’s a lot of glitz and hubbub I just don’t care for and could do without. The commercialization at least. I’m not talking about anyone’s views on religion nor am I looking to get struck down by a bolt of lightning (especially since it’s raining as I write this; coincidence?).

Curmudgeon, you say?

Sure. Others, I know for a fact, would call me a troll.

That’s fine. I’m nice when it feels like I should be and I’m not when I don’t feel like it. People should be that way year round so that they’re truly happy, and if they were, then it could be like Christmas 365 days a year.

Anyway, while it does blow, I’ve tried to be a better sport this year. Sugar-mama wanted to get a new tree, and by ‘new’, I mean, she wanted me to let her put up a full-sized one for the first time. It’s not like I dictate this relationship and she couldn’t have before. But we didn’t always have space and I’m sure it’s easier for her to deal with certain parts of my snarky ways just by letting me think I’m winning, so her small tree in the past was a compromise since I’m guessing she didn’t want to fight with Team CAC or spend the money on a new tree.

But this year we went and bought one. The last cheap one at Lowe’s. Literally, it was the Charlie Brown tree, a floor model with the price tag still on it and bent limbs. Even at full price (which we didn’t come close to paying) it was still cheaper than anything else they had on sale. And it’s barely taller than me, so you can decide for yourself how sizable it is.

The tree came home fine in three pieces and went up relatively easily. Then sugar-mama put up other decorations, which I figured I better just put up with since she hasn’t put hardly any up in the past. One year worth for nine years of little? Sure, deal. Just remember it next year. Yeah, I know, right, like I have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping this holiday train in the future.

So I’ve been dealing with that lately. It’s gotten my mind off work. I think that’s a lot of the reason why I haven’t blogged much lately. It’s sucked ass.

I like the job, or at least the job I’m supposed to be doing. The problem is that because of a lot of issues out of my control, I have to do other things that take up way more time than whatever it is my job should be. So that causes two problems: first, I think we can all safely say I’m a control freak and second, I actually like to work but this other bullshit is preventing me from doing it.

So anyway, I haven’t been happy with the job situation at all. Some of that, hell maybe most of that is on me. I’ve never lived in the real world really. Working in athletics for so long skews your sense of how shit in the corporate realm works.

Seriously, where I’ve worked before, if something needs to be done, you do it and move on. Doesn’t matter if it takes you till 2 a.m., you do it. And if it’s last minute, just sprung on you the day before it’s due? Get over it quick, or you’re losing time because it still needs to be done.

This world I’m now in doesn’t have many people who 1) understand quality makes people want to buy more and 2) realize that the real world doesn’t just stop at 5 p.m. or whenever you want to go home. Especially when you work in a field where your product revolves around sports which, oh by the way, are mostly played after 5 p.m. or on the weekend.

So anyway, it’s just problems that deep down I’ve expected to pop up and that I have to work through. It’s mostly on me, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Luckily, I do like the job (or what I hope it becomes sooner rather than later) and love being in Atlanta. I know sugar-mama was worried I regret moving, but I don’t. I miss my friends in Nebraska, but it’s no different than when I left North Carolina, or Iowa, or Illinois. You know, one of the 20 residences I’ve had in the past 20 years.

To help myself, I’ve decided to try to be better at not always logging on and doing work when I don’t need to. Again, the control freak in me is tough to kick to the side, but I’m trying to be better about not doing work when I’m not actually working, if that makes sense.

I did take on one new thing to eat up some of my free time on days when I’m off. In November I signed up and joined Big Brothers Big Sisters. For anyone wondering, I’m a Big Brother.

Yes, I have like 933,147 brothers and sisters back in Illinois, but I figured I could use some of my liberal tendencies and volunteer to help the community and give back to others. So last month I was paired up with Ian, who is 8. We’ve gone to a basketball game — it’s the only way you’d ever see me at a women’s basketball game, but Nebraska was down here playing Georgia Tech — and went out a couple other times. He’s pretty cool, quite sure of  himself (not cocky but as he says, “I’m awesome”) and is quite the question machine. Again, this reinforces my views on not wanting kids of my own, but enjoying them as long as I can give them back.

So, hopefully that’ll be something cool. It’s a two-year commitment, so we’ll be together for a while longer. I may or may not give you updates. Probably not as it’s kinda personal to me, but figured I’d share that much only because while I’m a troll, I also like to do nice things once in a while too and you should know that.

Well, fuck. I guess this is the point where I have to say something funny, right? I normally have something funny or stupid to say, and since this was a bit of a more serious blog, I think funny is appropriate.

But I don’t have anything funny. So I’ll end it with this offering for the holiday: