November 27, 2002, 10:21 am
You've known me for a pretty long time, and you know how when I was young, I would wait seemingly for an eternity to have you come around again. Those days there was a build-up unparalleled to Christmas, a long, slow walk into the holidays. Now, I can't believe tomorrow is Thanksgiving and that you'll be knocking on my door in a scant few weeks.
I know I've always submitted a "wish" list to you in years past (and, in the latter years, have submitted it directly to my parents). This year, though, I have one tiny request.
Santa, I need more time.
24 hours in a day, Mr. Claus, is hardly enough time to do accomplish what I need to do. I am sure no one understands this more than you, as you're forced to deliver billions of presents to billions of homes in a single evening. You have the power of magic on your side; I, however, without the benefit of eight tiny genetically enhanced reindeer, am a slave to the clock and my body's circadian rhythms. I simply cannot, my dear Santa, grade papers for hours and hours without a physical meltdown (or, at the very least, getting bored and listless and blah).
Santa, couldn't you spare some extra time this year? Maybe a week would be helpful. Just a full week where everyone else was frozen and I could do what I needed to do. A few days? Okay, a few days! I promise not to squander it on drinking myself into oblivion or crazy binges of any sort.
Thank you, Santa. I really appreciate everything you've done for me in the years past. And this way, you won't have to lug around that bookcase that I'm asking for in your sled or anything.