You guys know that the 12 days of Christmas actually start on Christmas, right? And that most Eastern Orthodox churches still use the Julian calendar and therefore celebrate it in January? So, in Ethiopia, maybe they won't know it's Christmas time at all because for them it isn't. And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas, except for the parts in which there will be, and also it only snows on one third of the world, so it's not a surprise that there wouldn't be snow there. Oh, and if the only water flowing there is the bitter sting of tears, someone should tell that to the Congo river.

I keep meaning to write a complete brutal takedown of "Do They Know it's Christmas Time," and I was going to this year, but I didn't. I sat down to do it, and realized, no, that's too much snark. So you win this round, Bono.

I don't know if I'm ever going to get around to a point. I've got a lot on my mind, a lot of which is shitty. Like, how my mom sucks at not ruining Christmas. Or how I finally found out about the details for the outpatient depression program I was supposed to do. Yeah, it's going to cost at least $1200. Not going to happen. I'll have to figure out what to do.

Tomorrow night is a reunion for my HS Band. It's supposed to be a dinner at 5:30 and a pub crawl after. I was thinking I'd do the dinner and skip the pub crawl, but I've got the kids by myself until PhMom gets home, which probably won't be until after 5:30. Rather than a) go to the band thing and stay for only an hour or b) stick PhMom with putting all 3 kids to bed by herself, I'm going to meet up with them after the boys are in bed. Maybe I shouldn't be going on the pub crawl. Maybe I'll end up ditching my car and getting a ride home. Maybe I'll get to the bar after everyone's left, not be able to get in touch with them, and drink a beer by myself feeling lonely and sulky.

What am I doing to myself? I should be eager for all of this. My brain hates me.