Christmas and the Single Man

Christmas season is not the most pleasant of times for the single man. Observe, as he recoils in horror as the saccharine num num goodness of the holiday encroaches on his personal space, reminding him that he will be spending the season alone. Again.

Christmas has come early for the single man this year. It's only mid November and the radio in his office has already started playing carols. Unable to cope, he does what he knows best. Cuss loudly.

So anyway, this radio. This Christmas radio. The one that's flanking me on the right side, has been playing the most God awful smooth jazz since I started working here. I have plead with the higher ups to move it elsewhere but apparently its current positioning is set up for optimal acoustic effect (it doesn't distract anybody else but me). I've even tried turning it down and changing the station but that usually results in our German receptionist's Hitler-esque tirades.

I'm starting to suspect that there are hidden consequences to my daily dose of Christmas radio and I fear I may have developed some sort of Pavlovian response to it. I hear a couple of smooth jazz renditions of Jingle Bell Rock and my "inside thoughts" mechanism shuts down. Random profanities begin flowing out. Kenny G's sax comes on and my vision blurs. Anything by Michael Buble and there's a broken coffee mug in my hand. The Christmas Shoes Song plays and it's all over.

I guess having to spend most of my holidays doing inventory doesn't help the situation any either.