And then you have to go to work, and before 10:00 even rolls around, some barely coherent man yells at you on the phone because "I send dat fax long time ago! Why you not have?! This big problem!"
And then you have a veritable mountain of stupid local papers to slog through. And there you sit, dirtying your fingers on the wasted newsprint of stories such as "Proposed Mega-Store Angers Locals" and "Benson's Barber Shop Moves to New Location," and you are despairing, oh Lord, how you despair.
But lo, you shall come upon the Birth Announcements, and God Herself shall place Her celestial hand upon your frizzy head, and She shall bestow upon you a small token of undeniable glee, and a reminder of Her Divine Sense of Humor:
And so together we say, Amen.