Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow...

Tomorrow, there's a new episode of The Adventure Zone going up. Tomorrow is also Cleaning Day. Tomorrow's tomorrow has my Friendo coming over from Tullagawupwup to learn as many Ways of Keto as I can firkin teach.

I shall also attempt to impart my love of the aforementioned zone where adventure happens.

It might not stick. But I gotta try.

It's nice to have someone to nerd out with.

Tomorrow's tomorrow's tomorrow is the Big Push to have everything ready by Christmas. Table cleared, if not made. More supplies laid in, including three times the necessary strawberries because Chaos just devoured a punnet and a half in a day.

Make that ten times the strawberries necessary.

I've run out of my housekeeping. I've run out of my emergency stash that I'd carefully accrued over November. And I've started raiding spare cash from my Compy Fund piggy bank.

This Crimbolio nonsense is expensive.

So that's set me back a LOT on the New Compy Fund.

And tomorrow's tomorrow's tomorrow's tomorrow is as much firkin pre-preppedness as I can manage. Making and setting the jellies, keeping Chaos' hands off of at least two punnets of strawberries, fetching the duck, the veggies, the cooked chook for the "I'm too fucking exhausted to cook anything, have some chook" pre-Crimbo dinner.

And the WRAPPING. Shit. Gotta find some time to do THAT.

And my Martha Stuart Wannabe Arse decided, "I'm gonna tie a bonus present to a game involving a treasure hunt and a fuckton of origami fucking butterflies" because I have to do SOMETHING that's totally extra for a yule party.

I make myself hate this time of year for no real reason and I don't know why.