Last July I forgot something.
Nearly exactly a year ago, at the tipping point between early- and mid-December, I forgot to go Christmas shopping. There must have been something good on TV.
Every year, faced with the prospect of engaging in pitched battle with my fellow shoppers throughout the month of December, I seem to make the resolution to do all the shopping in July, thus freeing myself from active duty and sparing myself more bloodshed.
But now, conditioned as I am by the plangent strains of seasonal piped-in musak which insinuates its ineluctable Christmas music through radio and digital channels, I suddenly realize that I am five months late for Springing into Action. My plan has failed, and I must to war.
Godspeed and good luck to us all.