T’was the Night Before Christmas Eve

T’was the night before Christmas Eve. My uncle just dropped the bomb on me that I will be responsible for bringing the Holiday cheer on the Christmas Eve itself by being the program organizer and the emcee. (In a bored voice) What a great way to spend the Holidays. It’s been three years consecutive that I’ve been a grinch about Christmas. I don’t know the roots yet on why I’m such a mood killer for people who enjoy this specific holiday. It’s just that it’s fake and very commercialized. Well, that’s a different story. Ugh.

T’was the night before Christmas Eve and my fever was burning up. I was having a 40.7 C fever and it got worse. I had that 30 seconds flashback of my life that has been. It was crap. Just crap. Then it led to the conclusion that I was about to die. The fever may just be that horrible that I was having delusions of death. I was gonna die alone.

T’was the night before Christmas Eve yet I was high on meds. Pain-killers. I was having severe headaches to accompany my high fever. ¬†The thought of being alone and sick showed me the future where I was alone in my pad in New York with no one to help me but me. I felt more ill. I will be alone in New York. How will I manage during the hard times?

T’was the night before Christmas Eve. The meds. The fever. The delusions. Then the heavy rain downpour. Then I was in a Survivor Island, still sick. How will I ever win Survivor if I get sick and can’t handle it well. I should be tougher than I am now. I’m stronger than this.

T’was the night before Christmas Eve and if I ever believed in karma, I think this was karma. But, fortunately I don’t believe in it. And yes, people and friends have been comparing me to The Grinch and Scrooge, but clearly what makes them different from me is at the end of the story, they understand and feel the “Christmas spirit”.

Today is Christmas Eve and I’ll be putting on the fake Christmas blah. Though I have to say that from the past two years, there’s always that last minute change of heart. Ugh, I hope not this year.

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I’m the curbside prophet and don’t you dare play the Christmas trumpet!

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