Our time on the Grim: 1:49:45 (That's 12 minutes better than my previous time.)
Day showing on our Advent calendar: 03 (Little Santa is sitting on the dresser in the kitchen.)
Figures in my wooden Nativity set from Israel: 12 (3 Shepherds, 3 Magi, Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus, 1 ox, 1 cow, 1 sheep.)
Time last night when the Husband encouraged me not to break my running streak: 9:45pm (Rule #5: always have a great support system. I have the best support ever.)
Handmade baubles for the Christmas tree: 9 (several of which came from my classes for Relief Society the past few months)
New albums of Christmas music: 1 (Courtesy of my lovely brother-in-law, I now have the Lower Lights's Christmas album. Let the festivities begin!)
Even with the hassle of my permanent residency permit application staring me menacingly in the face this week, I'm feeling good about the world. My Christmas decorations are going up, I ran well in the Grim, I haven't broken my running streak yet, I have tasty oatmeal butterscotch cookies in the kitchen, and my weight is currently clocking in at 147 lbs! Life is good. Maybe, if I keep telling myself that, I can avoid the stress-induced aneurysm that is dealing with the UK Border Agency or their cunning partners - not to be outdone in incompetence and bureaucracy - Exchange Group. I know I've said I'm allergic to stupid...these people exude enough stupid to send a person into anaphylactic shock. Also, does anyone else see the irony in having to take a test for British residency - in lieu of an English language competency test - proctored by someone whose English skills are worse than mine? I know when Parliament is elected, I can tell you all 4 national saint's days, I listen to Radio 4, and I know the lyrics to Jerusalem. Surely that's all I really need?
Ah well. Time to put E to sleep and watch Downton Abbey on Netflix.