Predictable

I'm not terribly good at December. Though I have little truck with outdoors, I can't deny that the lack of sun saps my energy, and there's always the looming cloud of Christmas promising to rain familial obligations on my parade. Last December it was quiet at work and I was listless and distracted, so naturally I was ambling through the internet with my brain loose, letting whimsical queries reproduce and subdivide until I was left with tens of tabs, connected by a messy web of relevance and coincidence, but also somehow all equally uninteresting. Perhaps it's a measure of how enervated I'd become that I actually started paying attention to the ads alongside my latest search, or perhaps my overfed but under-stimulated brain had gratefully seized upon something which showed promise.
( And then what happened? )