I spent yesterday decorating. This is a complicated procedure, since first I have to bring in my many, many Christmas storage bins from my landlord’s garage, which is on the lot next door; then I have to carry them up to the second floor, where I live. This year, the tree (three trees, actually) is in a different place because I have a bookcase now where it used to go.

And I really do have three trees. I got them years ago, a trio of skinny fake trees of different heights that actually look not-unreal. I like to decorate them with crystal snowflakes and white lights. My creative vision is that these are snow-covered trees in a forest clearing! (Yeah, I’m a Christmas dork.)

And when I’m doing this stuff, it’s absolutely chaotic. Crap everywhere, things knocked to the floor… When I get distracted, I’m very klutzy; I drop things and knock them over — I’m a veritable Lucille Ball. So I leave the cleanup for last. (Still cleaning up.) I got so caught up in my decorative vision, I never even changed out of my flannel PJs yesterday.

But as soon as I have it all cleaned up, I’ll post pictures of my Christmas decorations for you all.

The teevee in my bedroom stopped working last night. No more Craig Ferguson for me! Ah well, I only paid $90 for it used, and got three years out of it.

I topped myself this week (no pun intended). Got a black cashmere Perry Ellis topcoat for…. 50 cents. No kidding.

After five years, I discovered my Subaru did not have a spare tire! (You all know the rules, right? As soon as you notice something’s missing, the greater the impending likelihood of you needing that thing.) So a few months ago, I got a full-size spare from my mechanic for $20, but there was a problem: Namely, it didn’t fit into the tire well in the back of the car.

Well, today I hit the jackpot. A nice couple who listed a Subaru donut spare on Craigslist for $10! And I gotta tell you, the thing is brand-new. It even has the original paper sticker on it. So now I have backup. Whew!

I discovered this dime-size patch on my face, right by the bottom of my nose. It’s… bumpy. Sandpaper-y. Well-defined. It’s just like the patch on my lip I had removed years ago that turned out to be early-stage squamous cell, so it needs to get fixed.

But the way my dermatologist treats these things is to scrub the affected area with acid, leaving a big honkin’ scab in its place. And that’s not how I want to go through all the holiday parties, so I’ve scheduled an appointment for January.

Yes, that’s how vain I am.

I am so sick of turkey, I could scream. Next year, I’m buying a ham.

First of all, I’m thankful for antibiotics. Even though they are causing me severe nausea that makes me wish I lived in a medical marijuana state!

Yesterday, despite my best efforts to avoid the supermarket, I had to go redeem my free turkey coupon (even though I’d already gotten a fresh one from the local butcher). It was a zoo in the supermarket parking lot, but folks were mostly picking up only a few items and heading out quickly, so it was a lot easier to get a parking spot.

I watched the Food Network during this bout with bronchitis (also caught up on the final three seasons of the BBC original “Shameless” on Netflix — one benefit to not being able to sleep more than a few hours) and saw that you can buy those pop-up thingies for your turkey that tell you it’s done. So I did. Then I came home and stashed the free frozen turkey in my landlord’s freezer (for Christmas, I guess).

I’m a little bummed that I had to cancel the big Thanksgiving dinner with friends and family, but grateful that my friend who already had this bug is coming anyway. What a letdown. I really did the Martha Stewart preparation thing this year, too — polished the family silver, ironed and folded the cloth napkins, got out the candles, washed the crystal, all that stuff. It was going to be my first large Thanksgiving in years (I used to host both families when I was married).

I remember last year, when my daughter-in-law made this sumptuous vegan feast and all I could eat of her fabulous food was the mashed potatoes (because I was so sick with diverticulitis). I do not seem to have good Thanksgiving karma lately.

But I am grateful: Grateful that I have health insurance this year, grateful for the support from all of you that made paying for it even possible. Thank you for letting me be myself!

So tell me: What are you grateful for?

The doctor says my throat looks completely raw and my chest sounds like a three-pack-a-day smoker. She gave me a z-pack and some cough medicine with codeine. I told her I was hardly coughing; she said, “You’ll thank me later.”

So this is why I’m so short of breath.

This means that I have to postpone the double-antibiotic treatment for the h.pylori found by my GI doctor during my recent endoscope. Now I understand why old people get so cranky. God, I hate being sick and I hate taking antibiotics even more, but the GI doc says left untreated, it may cause gastric cancer.

And my family doc says the antibiotics they’re giving me for h.pylori may even cure my reflux. So I got that going for me!

I might have strep throat. I’ll see the doctor in the morning, but since I feel as if I got hit by a truck, blogging will be minimal until I’m feeling better. Thanks.