Still here, Ms J. Still trying to find Christmas.

I went out this morning in search of a Christmas tree. I know, I know. I already have a tree. I just have to put it up and decorate it. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Well it's not. It's a pain in the arse, and I don't want to do it. A friend made a good suggestion:

"Just buy a little tree," he said. "Pre-lit and pre-decorated. All you have to do is set it on a table somewhere and plug it in. That's what the missus and I did this year. Seventy bucks."

I spent the better part of two hours today, going from shop to shop, in a vain search for a little tree - "Pre-lit and pre-decorated." But I had no luck at all. I would have paid more than $70., Ms J. I would have paid a king's ransom to have found what I wanted straight away and returned home with a satisfied smile.

But it was not to be.

Instead, I spent more money on Dan and Meagan.

Chicken Soup For The Teenage Soul
CD's and DVD's.
mP3 players.
A sweater for Dan.
More stocking stuffers.
Wrapping paper.

I came home feeling as though I'd just wasted $400. There are hungry people in this town who could really use that money. But I gave it to big business instead.

I'll keep looking til I find a little tree. I'll put up a few silly decorations. And I'll wrap all the junk I bought and give it to my kids. I'll force a smile and pretend I'm happy. But really, Ms Journal, it's all a big nothing, this Christmas.

For me, anyway.

Just a big, empty nothing.

I can't wait til Boxing Day.