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The End of Lazy Christmas

Not writing enough means that everything feels uncooked—like my stomach is filled with cake batter. I've been off the wagon for two years and now is the right time to get back on, if I can. Mo & I were having a conversation during Lazy Christmas, like this:

P: This is probably our last lazy Christmas.
M: You think?
P: Next year we'll probably go to your Mom's.
M: True.
P: And then after that we might have a kid.
M: Please stop eating the gingerbread candies.
P: And that will be the end of the lazy Christmases.

What I'm saying is, we're nine months to a wedding (PROJECT RINGWORM), and then there's the potential post-wedding baby (PROJECT LITTLE SOCKS).[1] Plus I am soon to launch the culmination of over a year's work (PROJECT HARPOON), which, like all large websites, will not be finished--rather, it is in a launchable state, like the Space Shuttle, and upon launch it will require tremendous ground support. Unless it explodes. Therefore it is essential that I get rolling again.

Notes

1. In the house is not a gently ticking biological clock but rather a fertility gong that occasionally rings out, and when it goes off we both sit across from each other, quietly blinking. [Back]


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