I can do without perfume this year. I probably smell (passably) okay without it.
And I can live without jewelry. I already have a bit of bling that I can wear.
I don't need any shoes or sweaters or belts, so we can dispense with those.
I already have plenty of glass and china and crystal stuff, all of which has to be dusted every year or so, so you can give that to someone needier and more collectibles deprived than I.
I'll tell you what I do need, Santa, and what I crave and desire more than anything else: serenity! I want some peace of mind, Santa. I want my stress level reduced. Big-time. And immediately. I want a transcendental calm to descend upon me and cloak me in huge warm fuzzies. You can get me this, Santa, right? I think you can, and I'm depending on you.
Thank you ever so much!
Love and kisses,
P.S. -- If you let me down, you perhaps don't want to know about my sharp elbows and knobby knees and the tender places on rotund, white-bearded gentlemen wearing red velvet they can, um, collide with.