nothing will be fine.

It's hard to enjoy Christmas, knowing that someone close died. It's hard to get up the twenty-fourth of December. early in the morning and do the same thing that every year. Wash the windows, change bedding, fly with a vacuum cleaner. In fact, until the first cigarette does not poison the environment is practically at an annual normalcy is impossible. Fortunately, there will be no worse. It certainly is the bottom. But normally it is not crying in the store when buying bread. I do not remember such a dick. With a smashed shoulder there is no one to cry in the frame. And nobody hug and say everything will be fine.