This is annoying. I keep having other things to do than what I'd rather be doing. For example, this weekend we have 21 people coming for dinner. 23 now? Whatever, lots. This all started a couple of years ago when an American friend of ours couldn't be home with her family for Thanksgiving, and now we've got this wacky American turkey-day tradition. Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely thrilled by the tradition itself, and am very much looking forward to dinner tomorrow night. I love big dinner with big mobs of people. And excellent excellent friends Colin and Jen, whom I have not seen in what feels like several dogs' ages, are coming to stay with us. Hurray to all that, I say, because I miss them terribly. But boy, am I ever in exactly not the mood to do any of the prep work to make this thing happen. There are 16 pounds of bird in my freezer and they scare me, because in order to turn that frozen monstrosity into something fun to do with twenty-odd of my closest friends, there's all this other crap that has to get done: shopping, chopping, slicing, cooking, cleaning, serving... ugh. Really, I just want to go curl up in a ball and read languidly for half an hour, then sleep. The winter is gorgeous, but it is making me le tired. Also le thargic.