Paper writing break

I've heard about four different versions of The Little Drummer Boy in the last two hours while sitting in Starbucks, and I've hated all of them. I especially don't understand the one in which a sultry female voice sang "I am a poor boy too." Sweetheart, you can't make the little drummer boy sexy. The one I'm listening to now features Indian themed background music. Bah humbug on all of you.

Also, there is a foot of snow outside, all soft and fresh and powdery. When I go home, it will be in the 50s at lowest. Sometimes I wish I could bring GA farther north with me.

Happy Pink Sunday (not related to breast cancer).