Day 200 of writing every single day, because sometimes a guy should be writing instead of doing other less productive things.
Thoughts: "Dear, sweet baby Jesus. Swaddled in robes and blankets. Surrounded by gold and myrrh. Laying naked in front of a crowd, but not caring because you are in fact, Jesus, and also a baby. Thank you for putting food in my fridge, and letters in my fingertips. I need these things, and one could not exist without the other."