That four letter mash up there in the title is for mess, yes? Sure.
There was the pre-Christmas planning, our Christmas at home, our road trip and subsequent visit for holiday time with my family, the recuperation from our family fun time and getting back in gear after we returned home...
No matter how many lists I made, how many things I crossed off on my to-do list daily, I still managed to barely make it through this festive season. I sent maybe half of the Christmas cards I meant to send. My cookie jar, cookie-less 99% off the time (gasp!). The snow storm came and pushed back our timeline for travel and still, I ended up packing for our big trip at 8 pm the night before. About 10 miles into said big trip, the car's cruise control went out on my husband. Then the automatic locks went all wonky. I also forgot during the trip that we were driving on Christmas Day. I was hungry for 400 miles. Because nothing is open on Christmas Day.
All in all, our holiday went well. I didn't take many pictures because I'm a moron. We had a really nice time with my folks and brother. Time in their home and in ours was warm and peaceful. The pets enjoyed the merriment. We only found one or two sparkly hairballs the entire month.
Oh, there was some drama. A regular, run of the mill, average, every day check up doctor's appointment a few days before Christmas for my husband turned into a lot of swearing and hysteria from the wife. A change in travel plans to allow for a specialist appointment. Now we're waiting for test results which will be available "in a week or two"...
And talk myself down from shoving all my glittery garland up the medical community's collective arse. And breathe. And breathe.
Thanks, nursing, for making me sure something is never nothing. For opening my eyes to the fact that anything can happen at any time. I make a conscious decision every morning to wait for the results before reacting to them.
I've thrown myself into different tasks. Super cleaning. Organizing. More super cleaning and organizing. Anything not to dwell. I mean, hell, we finally watched the Hurt Locker. That Netflix DVD has been sitting on top of the television for months. I didn't even cry.
We watched the Sorcerer's Apprentice after that, and I shed a tear there. Stupid Nick Cage. You'd think I'd be cheering during your death-ish scene but no. Sniffle, sniffle. I don't like you so why do I watch anything you're in? I don't know. Maybe because you're in every other movie. Please stop making movies so I can see actors I actually enjoy watching.
The only time I'm glad Nick Cage exists is when Andy Samberg does an impression of him on Saturday Night Live.
Where was I? Oh yeah. The Christmas Season. We survived. Now onto 2011! Time for some hardcore dating!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment