That was the song that my radio alarm clock woke me up to today. I was vaguely aware that this radio station's insanity was close at hand but seriously...Christmas?
As soon as Halloween fell off the calendar, these nut jobs started playing Christmas music. By the time Thanksgiving has been tucked away, it will be nothing but jolly tunes and that hippopotamus song that makes me twitch like I'm being electrocuted.
I would like to cheerfully beat the program manager of that station about the head and shoulders with a soggy flip flop.
I can only imagine what the DJs working there think. The unfortunate thing is that its the only radio station that comes in clear in my bedroom. Its a cruel twist of fate to be sure. The only other option is to allow the high pitched beep on my alarm to wake me up and as I am already severely handicapped when it comes to be being pleasant in the morning (just ask Mary, when we travel together she gives me lots of personal space until I've had coffee), the idea of being woken up to a sound that reminds me of fingernails on a chalkboard could be bad for public safety.
I think there should be a law: no Christmas music played on the radio stations until there is snow on the ground. And snow that sticks, none of this flurry-that-dissolves-as-soon-as-it-hits-the-grass crap. Of course, poor South Dakota would be listening to nothing but right now if that were the case.
I'm still busy enjoying fall, not to mention the few days of Indian Summer we got. Let's not rush things, shall we? Besides, I'm tired of the stores and movies and radio stations starting in with the advertising so early that by the time the holiday gets here you're sick of it. Kind of sucks all the fun out of it. And I really dig Christmas so it would be nice to enjoy it without wanting to slap the retailers.
Anyway...I'm happy to report that I've hit 207 pages on the NaNoWriMo challenge. Of course it helps that I gave myself a giant blister on the side of my right index finger. I was making hanging slats for my quilt exhibit which is soon on its way to here and after attaching 36 eyescrews to the 18 wood slats, I managed to basically skin the side of my finger. I can't bend it or I whimper like a two-year-old. Which means my procrastination plot to knit was foiled. I can, however, type well. Rock on...