A new feeling has come over me lately. It would be lovely if it was the Christmas Spirit, but it isn’t quite. It’s taken me a couple weeks to figure out what exactly it is, but I think I’ve diagnosed it. After years of varying degrees of depression, I’m finally getting a taste of that “manic” thing. I’m not sleeping well, and not minding it much, as it allows me to lie there thinking of lists of things to do, and plenty of time to do them. This could be not a good thing if it goes on for any great length of time, or becomes more pronounced, but it’s a boon at the holidays, let me tell you. Listen: I had Thanksgiving dinner at a friend’s house. Delicious, but it left me missing the whole point of the meal, which is leftovers. Since I was awake most of the night anyway, I was able (compelled, in fact) to get up early the next day, go to Kroger, and cook the entire T’giving panoply - enough to last me a week. In between cooking the bird, gravy, stuffing, cranberries, a casserole and two pies, I also got out to the fabric store and got going on my Christmas project, which is to make elf hats as gifts for everyone. I’m up to 30 hats so far, in various elaborate combinations of fabrics and patterns. Back when Mr. Dodgson was writing about Wonderland, it was the chemicals involved in chapeau production that drove hatters mad, but in this case it’s my body’s own mad chemistry that’s driving the marathon millinery, and no amount of soothing chamomile tea can slow me down. (Everybody move down one place, I want a clean cup.) I’ve also made drapes for my livingroom and bathroom, and when I heard that Le Tigre were coming to town, nothing would do but that I must make hats for each member of the band (military style, but in read and black polka dots), and one to match my outfit for the concert. I’d like it if the 24-hour Walmart was a bit closer when I run out of thread, but when I’ve got the whole wakeful night to go, who cares? I can still get the thread (Oh, and a yard each of these three fabrics, please), and hit Kroger for crescent rolls and M&Ms (I’m making Holiday Trailer Twirls for the neighborhood progressive dinner), and the farmer’s market for real food (all this energy requires fuel, if not rest, if I could only slow down long enough to bother cooking, let alone eating), and still be home before my neighbors are even awake. Then I have the whole day to run 10 or 14 miles, write a column or two (going back later to insert punctuation), do a bit of work on that novel, and make more hats. Having to go to work really cramps my productivity, but such a super-abundance of pep allows me to come home, cut my hair, shave my chest, and clean the entire apartment before heading out to Eyedrum for some Art. And the apartment needed the cleaning, let me tell you. I had a very hot little man coming over for carnal purposes recently (plenty of time to waste on Manhunt, what with all this not sleeping), and I realized that the floor was lousy with bits of red and green thread from Project Elf. There wasn’t time to vacuum, so I frenziedly crawled around and hit the high-traffic areas with the lint roller. Dad offered to fly me home for Christmas. I declined, but if I don’t collapse by then, I may drive to Philly and appear, twitching, on his doorstep, give him his elf hat, and drive back. One great thing is, I’ll have no problem staying awake through the New Year. Possibly the entire 365 days of it. Anybody need a hat?