Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

It's nearly 5 pm at work on Christmas Eve, and the place is like a tomb. I work in an odd sort of hospital that can send most of its patients home for the holidays, thankfully (I remember how awful it was being sick at Christmas as a child; I would have hated being in the hospital). Most everyone cut out earlier this afternoon or took the day off. I'm working every day except for tomorrow, and it's a great chance to catch up on paperwork. But it's so quiet, it's eerie. I know we librarians have a stereotype for liking quiet, but this is really too much.

So, I'm listening to Loreena McKinnitt (no, not her holiday CD) and watching the gloomy day outside where it doesn't know whether it should snow or rain, and I'm looking forward to getting away for a little while tonight (I'm over to Zabet's) and then going home tomorrow to see my family.

I hope wherever you are tonight, whatever faith you hold, whatever circumstance you are in, that you are warm, and you are loved, and that you can find peace. Whether you live in a country torn apart by hate or are just too exhausted by all the things you "have to do" for the holidays, I hope you can take a deep long breath and look up to the sky tonight, and realise that all over the world, there are others with your same fears and hopes. I sometimes think we feel most alone in the winter. I know I do. But in a way, we're really never far from others--only a thought away.

Peace.