I am turning into one of the people I hate. I spent most of today going "Fuck Christmas!" and cheerfully wishing all the people I saw straight to hell.
I have never felt less like celebrating Christmas in my entire life. "But, Surreal, haven't you had stillborn children?" Yes, I have, and Christmas was hard each year, but I wanted to celebrate it because Christmas is a time of renewal. End of the year, and good tidings, and family, and friends, and even complete strangers who get touched by the Christmas spirit and try to spread the joy.
This year, there is no family. No friends. Nothing comforting.
And I want to just sleep until December 26th.
Sleeping til December 26th sounds very appealing. We've already pretty much given the boys their Christmas gifts (so they'd have time to play with them since they have to go to their bitch of a mother's early on Christmas morning) and we aren't planning a conventional Christmas dinner.I'm mostly grouchy because the past two weeks have been horrid at work. The holidays really bring out the crazy fucking assholes. I've had 4 sobbing at my desk meltdowns lately while my coworkers peeked on in horror. Mean people suck.
This is the first time in almost 20 years that my body is going without the tasty goodness of birth control pills and I might be a bit sensitive while I adjust to being "normal". This is great fun.
My heart goes out to my fellow bitches. I know how hard the holiday season can be. Yesterday marked the 2nd anniversary of my grandpa's passing. It was really hard on me, because it was so hard on my mom. She told me that she feels just as much an orphan today as she did 2 years ago. But at the same time, this is a good time of year for me. My toddler is infatuated with all the glitz and glitter of the lights. I love watching his reaction. This afternoon we are going to a party with Santa. I fully expect him to refuse to sit on Santa's lap, but that's ok! It is all part of the season!
This has been the absolute week from hell. Food poisoning or a stomach virus last weekend followed by a tooth extraction on Monday - which was not the lovely sort of "conscious sedation remove your wisdom teeth" sort of extraction but full blown present in the moment instead. That was followed by finishing up Christmas shopping, Christmas wrapping, and my husband acting like a royal jackass last night to boot. Throughout all of this have been the record rainfalls (aka torrential downpour) for days on end and I have to wonder if the suicide rate isn't going to be up this Christmas because of it.
I am honestly usually such a freak about Christmas, those who have known me for years know I've never been the "bah humbug" sort but this year I'm dangerously close to it and it honestly frightens me. I'm trying to rebound today, though. I've got a batch of gingerbread dough chilling in the fridge, I'm getting ready to make a batch of sugar cookie dough so I can spend the afternoon with my 6 year old decorating cookies for Santa. My greatest fear is my shitty mood ruining the magic of the season for her. I seriously don't need another reason to hate myself and that would definitely be it.
Still there are moments of bitchy sunshine. Literally and figuratively. The rain has cleared for today and tomorrow thankfully, the sun is out. I had the sheer joy of waking my husband (sleeping off a hangover on the couch this morning) by blaring "Miracle on 34th Street" on the television and banging about the kitchen as loudly as possible and my oldest teenager is my slave for the day currently scrubbing pans in the kitchen and getting ready to vacuum. Revenge is not best served cold, my friends, revenge is watching someone else clean your house on Christmas Eve.
Merry Christmas, bitches! My sincerest wish is for a far merrier Christmas for us all next year.
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