Happy New Year… now go to bed.

Those party horns – the ones that you can get in a set of twenty at the dollar store – I’d like to take several and shove them where the clean air doesn’t blow. Everyone in my house (except for me) is asleep, so it must be coming from outside. They’re impossible to ignore. Please God, I just want to sleep. If Cheryl or Beth wakes me up early tomorrow to leave for Bush Gardens… well, … I don’t know, I guess I’ll be really disappointed. What else am I going to do?

Not having served in the military, I am left to wonder if the fireworks going off outside make the neighborhood sound like a war zone. When the concussion rattles the window, you know it has to be illegal. Am I the only scrooge on my street? I hate New Years. Ba humbug.

Or maybe I’m just tired.