This has been posted late because my internet has remained unsteady for the past few days. I won't get many more chances than this, so I apologize if this comes across as harried.

The candy is delicious, though that might just be the hunger talking (I think the CDC is trying to starve me out). I savor the Warhead gummies the most, reflecting back on the days when a ball of sour candy burning a hole through my cheek was the worst I'd been through.

The movie choices were wonderful, and have proved a welcome distraction from the fact that I haven't seen a single person since this package came in. Christmas horror is the best kind of horror, not counting the growing horror that you will die in this orange, plastic sealed hell. And clowns, maybe. I've never seen "It," so it might get added to the list.

The glowsticks are wonderful because no one really seems interested in keeping the lights going.

Finally, the main course of the gift. The one that was buried at the very bottom of the box. The one that should have stayed there.

Ebola.

My Santa warned me. I should have listened.