No idea why we feel this way. Tired, achy, etc. At the last minute, our plans to return to Chicago for Christmas fell through (because we cancelled them) and our plans to Do Nothing took off in a big way. We stuck around to save money, catch up on work and make an offer on our first house (!).

Christmas Eve? That was for an English-style breakfast (at, uh, two in the afternoon) with righteous, savory baked beans and grilled tomato at Hand in Hand pub in Virginia Highlands. Also, King Kong.

Christmas? That was for good food and good company with abruptly accommodating co-workers. Also, drinking. Also, poker. Also, poker winnings. Merry effing Christmas.

Since then, it’s been sleeping and waking up tired for no reason. It’s been working and playing an embarrassing amount of World of WarCraft with folks in the ATL, in Virginia (sans Highlands) and, for all I know, in Ecuador. It’s been seeing Munich at Atlantic Station, which might be worth braving the unsettling commercialism of teenage girls with $200 to spend on “cute shoes” when there’s finally some food cooking over there. Atlantic Station, I mean, not Munich. (Or Munich.) Also, Strongbows, rum cake, a gyro and Erotic Photo Hunt (Classic) on the “crack machine” at The Independent in Midtown.

So much for saving money. Still, Christmas? Merry? Done and done.