My letter to Santa

Thank whomever for spammers, because without them, I would have forgotten entirely about that little piece of seasonal begging and crying.
[Aside — Is it everyone these days or just me who's getting tons of spam in their email? If the order confirmations I'm drowning under are to be believed, I have ordered and subscribed to so much stuff lately that I can't have one lucky penny left for all those great OEM and Viagra offers. Luckily, some well intentioned people have also reminded me that I have yet to write my letter to Santa.]
I find it is nothing short of a Christmas miracle that the kindness of strangers extends to this. 'Tis the season for it, though, and I'm hardly one to complain. Am I? Anyway. Here goes.

Dear Santa,

Only one month to go before your ONE day of work in the whole year (don't you dare start whining about it) and I know you're probably very busy whipping your cheap workforce elves so they produce all the crap toys you've been asked as bribes presents for Crimbo, but you know what they say, right, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and I'm not one to blow a chance when I get one. Yes, I've been very good this year, and below is a list of things that would be great "you've been very good this year" presents and would make me happy. Very happy indeed. I know. Making a 30-something happy is not necessarily part of your job description. Still. Ever heard of ripple effects? Well then. I strongly suggest you make me happy. The ripple effects might be nothing short of unmanageable otherwise. On the other hand, if you do make me happy, the ripple effects will probably make your job so much easier next year. Give it a thought, will you? Plus, I'm not asking for all of it. A carefully thought-out selection could do wonders to pacify me. Agreed? Goody.

Here goes:
A job that makes me happy to wake up in the morning.
A toyboy. I'm sure a toyboy would make me happy to wake up in the morning.
The opportunity to see some more of the world—that goes best when considered in conjunction with the job thing. Oh hell, and the toyboy thing.
The ability to say "no".
The ability to say "fuck right off". Oh hang on. I may have that already.
The ability to DIY.
The willpower and discipline to finish what I've started. With a bang.
A little bit of luck. Screw that. A lot of luck.

In your free time, you may also want to try your hand at peace on earth and the end of poverty and hunger. With 364 days of free time per year, surely you'll manage to squeeze it in between a game of golf and a tennis match. I'm not holding my breath, but it'd be a nice thought—quite in keeping with the spirit, really.

Anyway, you take care of yourself, wrap up well, and buckle up on that sleigh—you never know where the drunk driver is going to come flying from that night.

Love and kisses.
anne