12.22.03 - 6:28 p.m.

CHRISTMAS! Aughh! When did I become such an adult about this? Presents to wrap, trips to make, families to visit...I am such a good little suburban housewife. I live the yuppie dream, people. As Dan and I watched shoppers tromp through Short Hills last week, arms laden with Crate and Barrel, Coach and Nordstrom bags, I cringed inwardly. Then we finished our Johnny Rockets meal and set off to burden ourselves with much of the same. Fascinating and sick.

Oh, and note to guestbook poster who wondered if I was nine years old. Um, dude, I really hope you were being facetious. It's kind of difficult to hold down a job, drive a car and split the rent on an apartment with your boyfriend before you've turned ten. And though it's a nice compliment to think my musical taste is ahead of its time, sadly, it's more like I am hopelessly stuck in the past. With any luck, the executive decision to get an iPod for my birthday will change a lot of that.

It would be so wrong, yet so so right, to blow off addressing workplace cards (seriously, folks: you're not going to remember whether or not I gave you a card a year from now, so why bother?) in order to use up my Lush hot toddy bath crumbly thing. That is not its official title, but I'm tired and you Lush-ophiles will know what I'm talking about. It looks like a square biscuit but it makes bubbles.

Especially since, at 6:30 pm, I was just given a new assignment (a redo of an inept coworker's assigment, no less) that is probably due tomorrow. No one will give me a straight answer on that. No holiday cards for you, biznatches!