After I dropped Edward off, I went home to take a shower and get dressed properly. Henry was complaining, and though it was probably because I put out only adult-cat food (he prefers the kitten food, which will only make him FATTER, and I'm pretty sure Edward eats mostly the adult-cat food, because cats were invented to DRIVE PEOPLE CRAZY,) I pretended it was because he missed his little brother.
Then I went to Deptford, and you guys, I'm pretty sure that all my Christmas shopping is done. This has never ever happened to me before. I'm waiting on a few things in the mail, but not much. I have a few things to put together still, and I wish I had gotten my brother more, but still -- no more shopping! This is truly amazing.
I will probably get a Christmas tree this weekend.
Peter Boyle died. The various obituaries first reference Everybody Loves Raymond and Young Frankenstein, but to me he'll always be the guy from a funny and heartbreaking episode of The X Files. (I think it was funny. Wasn't that the one with pies?) (Everyone did their best work on that show. Like Luke Wilson. And Alex Trebek. And Jesse Ventura, and Charles Nelson Reilly.) I've always thought of Peter Boyle very fondly because of that episode.