Christmas with dead horses

There are days when I believe that teaching English in Thailand bears many similarities to whipping a dead horse.

At the end of the day, the only one who is frustrated, exhausted, and emotionally spent is you.

As Christmas day looms closer, I can' t help but think about all of the things I'd rather be doing this 'holiday' season...

I want to walk through Chernobyl forest with Drew and Tom, still in my pajamas.
I'd like to hear my mom yell at me to come fix/type some mundane thing on her computer.
I want to feel the weight of my newly born niece in my arms and kiss her sweet (and assuredly) plump cheeks.
I want to run outside, into Christi's arms before she's barely stepped out of her car.
I want KC to ask me to fix her make-up so that we can have a faux fashion shoot by the pool.
I want to stay up until 3 am watching movies in the basement of the Millay house.
I'd like to hear Joshie yell out 'Starflakes!' as he rushes down the stairs to wrap his arms around me.
I want to surprise Moryeo in his office and thank him for everything he's done in the last few weeks.
I want to chase T around the house, trying to hug and kiss her in the way that oh-so annoys her (but secretly, I know she loves...)
I want an omelette at Café Patachou with Mr. Tom, Tom, and Drew (if he managed to wake-up for once...).
I want to be surrounded by friends underneath the dim lights of Cheesecake Factory.
I want to be home.
I want to be with you.

I don't want to be whipping.

The.Horse.Is.Dead.

Some days.