And another new month rolls around. December is the one that exhibits the most self-induced stress of any of them, though. Some people burden themselves with extremely complicated gift lists and set out on desperate shopping trips to try and round up as much “stuff” as they can. Others feel compelled to decorate their homes, both inside and outside, with about 800 lbs. of plastic tree boughs and long strings of vari-colored lights. My biggest stresses come while driving my car. The streets are filled with what I call the once-a-year drivers. These are the people who clearly have no driving skills at all and spend 11 months of the year letting other people drive them to the market or restaurants. But come December, they fire up the ‘85 Oldsmobile and set out on the mandatory Christmas shopping trip, trying to aim the bus through traffic while scaring the daylights out of everybody else. In the absence of some good Roadrunner cartoons, for some good entertainment, you can’t beat sitting in a shopping center parking lot watching these incompetents trying to park (and unpark) their cars.

								To Kolb