All I Want for Christmas

I got an email from my ne'er do well sister today - in lieu of gifts for herself for Christmas (and her birthday which falls mid-December) she wants cash.

For a family in Uganda. For the school fees for their children. 12 adopted orphans.

"How crass!", I say with a big dose of sarcasm.

On the front page of the metro section of the paper there's an article about how food banks are struggling. Next to that is an article about how a popular mall Santa was fired and has since been re-hired. Everyone is thrilled because their beloved Santa is back - and all I can think is, "glad to hear the guy still has a job".

In the spirit of all this misery - or tightening of belts, going without - I offer you my Christmas list:

- an update from last year - we have the bookshelves! Thank you Jesus (aka Ken!)

1) get those annoying people in my office off my back. let me focus on trying to stop HIV instead of agreeing to disagree on what petty issue has you in a tizzy... I have no idea... you get my drift

2) some qualified cabinet members in the new Obama administration. No former directors of the Arabian Horse Association, please.

3) an organized closet. yes, a bit selfish, I know. but the daily ritual of trying to find shoes (and re-discovering ones I'd long forgotten) really slows down my day. not to mention I'm sure my downstairs neighbor just loves the sound of a dump truck dropping a load of rocks every morning.

4) the ability to cook fish. okay, starting to get into the mundane here - but I really would like to feel a bit more at ease with this cuisine as it's healthier, I think. provided I don't buy the wrong kind and contribute to destroying the environment.

5) patience. don't kill the remote control when the channel won't change and I'm forced to watch the Real Housewives of Atlanta until something finally works in this damn little piece of plastic. don't curse the metro when it takes 8 minutes instead of 4 for a train to come during rush hour even though that means twice as many smelly, disgruntled people will be crowding on when it finally does arrive. don't yell at the TSA agent because I have to take off my belt so that stupid machine doesn't beep when I knew all along that I shouldn't have worn pants that required a belt in the first place. or shoes. or a coat. or lip gloss instead of lipstick.

Come to think of it Santa, just please leave me a big fat barrel of patience under the tree. That ought to take care of items 1 through 4 above.