Final answer:
A diary entry describing a personal experience of witnessing gunshots and fireworks on Christmas Eve in Mexico.
Step-by-step explanation:
Diary Entry: 25 December
At midnight on Christmas Eve, just before the end of my shift, I heard gunshots ring out in Mexico. I stopped my vehicle at the top of a small hill and stood on the roof to watch the sparkling of fireworks along the southern horizon. After returning home, I woke my mother who had come to visit for the holiday, her eyes bleary with worry and sleep. We sat in my empty living room in the night-weary hours of the morning, drinking eggnog and stringing popcorn around an artificial tree. My mother asked about my shift. It was fine, I said. She asked me if I liked my work, if I was learning what I wanted. It's not something to like, I said, it's not a classroom. It's a job, and I'm getting used to it, and I'm getting good at it. I can make sense of what that means later.