I’ve been getting excited about Christmas this year, probably since it means a series of long breaks from my job, but, regardless, I have been in the spirit. Then comes Saturday, when I endured teams of micky mouse sweatshirt wearing, fao Schwartz bag toting, fat lady’s waddling through union square screaming at their children until I finally had the sense to give up on the brown leather boots ive been searching for and just go home. I don’t hate Christmas yet, but I remembered why I’m not usually excited about it.