This time of year, all I want to do is sleep and drink cocoa. It's cold, it's dark, and all of the fake-Christmas-y cheer annoys me. My office is so cold that people are wearing their winter coats all day.
This is just about the only time of year that I miss Florida. When I was down there two weeks ago, I could -- and did -- go outside without a jacket, scarf, and gloves. (I just had to wear a polartec fleece vest in the house because the air conditioning was on so high.)
We moved there from New Jersey during the summer when I was twelve. That winter, our first winter in the newly-constructed house, we actually had to turn the heat on for one night -- Christmas Eve. Unfortunately, so did everyone else, and the entire neighborhood suffered a brown-out.
So, the next morning, after opening up all of our presents in front of the T.V., the family packed itself into the station wagon and went out for breakfast at the Bagel Land in a nearby strip mall. (An aside: Unlike the house in New Jersey, the Florida house did not have a fireplace in the family room. So, in our family's homage to The Night Before Christmas, our stockings were always carefully placed in front of the T.V. in order of our ages -- which, coincidentally, is also alphabetical.)
The Bagel Land excursion became a sort-of tradition. You know, one of those things that happens more often than not, but on occasion, there are exceptions. Like the one year when I was in law school, and I somehow managed to catch (on video) my dad making pancakes and dancing around with the dog.
I miss the weather. I miss the bagels. And every so often, I even miss my family.