The days following the passing of Christmas are always a bummer. The decorations are still up, the department stores still play Christmas carols, but ya know, it’s all empty.
It’s like being at a funeral for a really popular friend. Or a parent.
Yeah, a parent.
Daddy New Year is still there for you, but he kind of drinks a lot, and his liver ain’t too good.
Oh, well. At least in heaven, it’s Christmas every day. Being dead must rock.
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