Whenever I start youtubing Josh Groban, or start admiring the decorated trees at Ikea or listen (happily) to 3637253 renditions of "White Christmas", I know then that Christmas has finally arrived. I get an awful feeling (but am secretly satisfied since I actually know these songs!) when christmas music blares non-stop at NTUC and I'm actually humming along, loud enough to scare little kids ("No, there's no ghost of christmas past, dear.. just that weird girl over there by the bread section"). I don't celebrate it but heck it's just fun to pretend to be.

I'm slowly coming to a point where I'm tired of keeping up appearances- the appearance of actually having a 'life' (what? I'm not breathing properly enough for you now?), of having a 'careless but together' look (which isn't possible without a stylist team of 10) or the appearance of having a good head on my shoulders (which seems like all there is to me these days).