Leeches suck.
My favorite thing about Christmastime is taking a break from leeches (I mean, life) and pretending for a two- or three-week period that everything is actually okay. The stuff I get, the food I eat, and the people I see are going to make me happy, and that's going to give me the motivation I need to make it through another year of unhappiness and (either figurative or literal) blood loss.
Actually, I'm not being entirely serious (I used to be, though).
I'm just comforted by the fact that I'm usually right.
*gives self a hug*
*pats self on back*
*cries self to sleep*