So, I am sitting in my apartment, alone, all bundled up, drinking a glass of whiskey, reading tales of Christmas woe, and generally enjoying myself. When what should happen? A knock at the door. Are you fucking kidding me? On Christmas? I open the door, and it's the new owner of the house (I used to own the building, but sold it to him and his wife, and now rent the garden unit from them), and he has a gift for me! It's a huge tub of popcorn. I don't particularly care for popcorn, but the gesture sure was nice! Who gives their tenants Christmas gifts? So sweet! My faith in humanity is restored. Officially.