Random Thoughts - Crabby Holiday Edition

Why is walking two dogs like walking two dogs, but walking three dogs is like walking eight dogs?

Fox is going to cancel all of my favorite TV shows, even ones that are on other channels, because that's just how Fox rolls. I hate you, Fox.

The S/O is in the midst of his holiday decorating.  Kid #4 walked into the living room and quipped, "It looks like Christmas threw up." The fact that the LED lights are brighter than the regular lights, and the fact that somewhere in that string of eleventy-billion lights a fuse keeps blowing, is going to cause the S/O to have an aneurysm. This concerns me only so far as if he has an aneurysm, it will leave me solely in charge of all the other living things in the house, and we're running out of room to bury things under the tree in the backyard.

Chris Stewart broke his fucking hand. 

I believe I now have both bronchitis and an ovarian cyst. The bronchitis caused me to cough violently enough that I bonked my head on my desk, while the ovarian cyst causes me to scream rather piercingly when the spymobile hits a rough patch in the road. Since it's a five-speed diesel, this is often. (Handy reference guide for those of you without ovaries: imagine clamping a pair of vise grips to a testicle. Now close them. Hard.)

Also, I somehow managed to torque my ankle while sitting at my desk. And in dismantling the dryer to uncover what was making the horrifying grinding noise, I pulled a muscle in my back. It has come to my attention that sometime in the near future I will simply fall apart in the middle of the hallway like an old jalopy in a Keystone Kops reel.

Finally, being self-employed means that you don't get take vacations at the end of the year. Instead you work longer and longer hours in an attempt to squeeze those last few dollars out to pay for figgy pudding and chew toys.  I have also learned that I am either a terrible employer or a terrible employee, because I am always behind. I'm thinking of unionizing and going on strike, at which point I will cross my own picket line and start a fist-fight with myself.

It is only December 1st.