Christmas is over. Bing’s gone back to a global-warming green Christmas after severe winter storms. Clarke Griswold has taken down the lights one strand at a time. Tiny Tim survived, thanks to Scrooge’s repentance and intervention.

Yet, this Christmas felt more like Carol of the Bells than Jingle Bells, didn’t it?

Just before Christmas, I found myself burned out, edgy, and tired. The sprayed on painted snowman and reindeer display in the window at Burger King didn’t help my lack of spirit nor did the smells of the Christmas tree lot kick start the eggnog in my veins when I walked by each night as I listened to podcasts and processed my day on my urban trek through the Christmastide.

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