Breathe. I always say to myself as the big fat Santa impersonators and trashy lights scatter the streets. Just breathe in. It's hard to pretend that THAT time of year isn't on its way. I see those trees lined up on the sidewalks with $40 signs tagged on each one.
Sometimes, I even witness the poor saps buying those trees. Why?
I never can scrounge up enough cash to pay for gifts for my friends, I'm talking nothing. No cash, ever. It's almost as though Father Christmas is looking at me and saying, "No way in hell."
So I run to the local Family Dollar and steal trinkets, cute trinkets. The sort of shit that will either amuse them or leave them harassing me incessantly for a real gift. It's kind of the only way that I can allow myself to receive gifts from them without feeling like scum. So I wrap up all of the dogfood and give it a go.

Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas.