Alright.
So. I'm flying home in, like, seventeen hours. By home I mean the Keweenaw Peninsula. Land of ice and snow. The land that has been as un-icy and un-snowy as Lansing has been lately. The land that conveniently will be in the midst of a winter storm warning when I fly in tomorrow. And why? Because I really, truly believe that God hates me.
Sure, he's blessed me with a good job and great friends and even a really sweet boyfriend now. But somehow. Somehow! He thinks it'll be funny to bless the U.P. with U.P.ish weather just because I'll be flying in.
Not that that is the most imminent thing that I'm worrying about at the moment. No no. There is a shower to be taken and much packing to be done. Oh and my mom's present? That nice idea to knit her a blanket? It's about half done. How many days is it until Christmas?
And let's not even get into how crowded the Detroit airport will be or how long lines are going to be or how cranky everyone will be.
Instead I'll focus on the aftereffects of it all: Christmas with my family! Reunion with Emily! Lots of squealing! Presents! Actually seeing snow! Even if it is storming! Still! Snow!
I just need to get through packing and this little project (keep your fingers crossed if you know what I'm talking about) and then that whole flying through a storm thing. That's all.
Merry Christmas, everyone. If you're reading this, then know I love you. Mwah mwah mwah.*
Ciao, dahling!
~*Krissy*~
* If my brain wasn't so sleep-deprived I could actually come up with something cute and sweet and sentimental to write. But I'm exhausted and I have an empty suitcase to fill. So that paragraph up there? That's your holiday greeting. If you want real love, call me.