Sunday. I managed to get through the night without being troubled by the doll, but that's probably because I didn't really buy it. Someone else has probably had bad dreams instead. I passed a peaceful night impersonating Colonel Gaddafi as I slept. I'll have to get a uniform and dye my hair black.
Last night we watched the George C. Scott version of Scrooge in 'A Christmas Carol' on DVD which was quite relaxing. Scott's English accent actually improves as the film progresses, so they must have shot it in sequence. I don't know about you, but I always feel like bludgeoning Tiny Tim to death with his own crutch every time he says, "God bless us all" which may explain last night's doll post. I have to say that Alistair Sim makes a better Scrooge, though.
I am getting some bad vibes from H.I. as I write, because she thinks I should be cleaning the compact but adorable city apartment instead of wasting mine and everyone else's time by writing this drivel. So I will, but I'm going to finish this first and weather-out the vibes.
Actually, what is there to finish? I had better start cleaning...