The perfect millennium gift

Today I had two final exams. On the same day. On a Saturday, a week before Christmas. Right before the exam someone had the audacity to start singing the Simon and Garfunkle song Cecilia, or something like that. Then it happened. It kept playing in my head, not only that which was sung but far beyond into things which were not. The exam went ok except that damn song plagued me throughout. That being said, I never want to see or hear anything about sea urchin gastrulation from any source again (I am not suggesting it was part of the song…). That means you.

Today I went to the mall. This proved to be a mistake as it appears Christmas is very close, the fact of which I have only been vaguely aware of recently. Thirty minutes to find a parking spot, and only ten to realize that the store didn’t have what I wanted. I should have stayed in bed.

On the television the other day I saw a woman being interviewed. She was anxiously gushing on and on about how she had to find the perfect Christmas presents this year because it was the last Christmas of the millennium. First of all, its not (don’t get me started). Secondly her reasoning for this was that everybody would remember if she didn’t get the perfect gifts. What the hell is that? Frankly you can ask me 2 years from now what my main disappointments in life have been and what I did or didn’t get for Christmas at any time won’t make the list.

Maybe the perfect Millennium gift is actually a flat of canned goods and a portable stove. Ask me in two weeks.

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