Thanksgiving is nearly here, which makes me depressed, not because I have nothing to be thankful for, since I do. Like that time that cop let me off with a warning. And the pet turtle I had when I was 6. Oh, and my family and stuff. Them too. But mostly the turtle.
No, the reason I am depressed when the holidays roll around is that I am forced to do things I hate, like "being nice to people" and "making eye contact with others" and "getting out of bed."
But there is one good thing about Thanksgiving: the food. Unfortunately, I am cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year, and I am a terrible cook. For the past week I have woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat by the nightmares of not knowing what I would cook.