Merry Christmas. Looks like most of the celebratory action went down over here yesterday, what with gifts and food and tears* and booze and the usual. Today seems to be about coddling my horribly out-of-whack neck, oh lord, something is very wrong. Mix that with a broken dryer, broken screen door, and the effects of Too Much of Everything, and I’m in bed with a junior varsity painkiller until further notice.
*Yes, tears. I feel like I don’t want to pee on the parade, since it seems to be the norm to appear (online at least) as TOTALLY HAPPY DURING THIS HOLIDAY SEASON, judging from the non-stop smile-face posts and pictures on Facebook. But tears there were yesterday, out of my own eyes, for a variety of reasons — it wasn’t really my choice not to be on the east coast with my family; I’m perpetually side-stepping a mom-shaped void this time of year; having a couple days off at home with my intensely needy Elderly Relative is NOT having time off; blah blah blah. Don’t feel bad for me, this is what it is, and the sweet relief of 12/26 is right around the corner. There’s got to be other people out there that are as uncomfortable as me with the holidays, yes? Even though it’s not really cool to admit it? Solidarnosc, my sad-Xmas brothers and sisters.
Big thanks and hugs to Lamar for hugging his weeping girlfriend until she felt better, for making a delicious dinner, for his and his mom’s good spirits and festive presence, for gifting me with sweet and useful gifts. I got my slippers, yes.
I’ll stop here. Merry Whatever from your Christmas Crank. Perhaps some cookies and tequila are the next agenda items.
