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When you say next door, do you mean Flingers or Chotchkie's?
December 19, 2007
Well, the malevolent little imp who comes and shits in my Christmas stocking every year has struck for 2007.
This year, the shittening has taken the form of Spouse�s mother, who is in the hospital again. She needs to be put into a care facility and no one with the power to make that happen will do it and I have washed my hands of the whole affair. I have totally disconnected from personal feelings about that woman�but she still retains the ability to hurt �the boys�, and that can still hurt me. And it makes it awkward to have to try and comfort Spouse�he�s mourning the decline of his mother, and I understand that. But his mother is the frigging antichrist.
Her senility can be entertaining, though. The last time I spent time with her, she told me that I was a nice girl.
Much nicer than that bitch her oldest son married.
Uh, yeah. Spouse is the firstborn. Thanks, Ma.
I won�t have to spend the afternoon with ENSIL (emotionally needy sister-in-law) on Friday, after all. Niece doesn�t have a game after all, and ENSIL has to work. I was not entirely dreading it, but it is probably for the best that I am off the hook. We are leaving for my family Christmas gathering on Saturday, and I have a ton of stuff to get done. I can really use the time.
Well, that�s if Spouse�s parental situation doesn�t hose the whole thing up.
I�m not sure if it was stress or what, but I slept for shit again last night. My ass has been dragging all day, and right now I�d give my left arm for a bed and a nap. But if I crash now, I�ll be up at friggin� three AM, and I don�t need that.
Especially as my stupid team luncheon is tomorrow, and my only hope of keeping a civil tongue in my head for the duration of the �festivities� is for me to be well rested.
All this holiday stuff at work is beginning to pall, as it is�today�s crap included a memory game�3 dozen Christmassy items spread out on a table, one minute to memorize them, then go sit down and write down what you remember�and trying to throw greeting cards into a wastebasket�through a wreath. Since I already won a prize, I sandbagged on both. Let someone else have a chance. There are enough cutthroat competitive people in our department.
I�m kind of disappointed in the card exchange, so far. I�ve only gotten a handful of cards, and with three more delivery days before Christmas, I would expect to have gotten at least half of them.
And I�m even more disappointed in the people on my regular list. So far, I�ve gotten cards from my niece, Spouse�s brother P, and my next-door neighbor, and that�s it. It�s pretty unheard of to not get one from my favorite auntie and uncle, or from my best friend. WTF?!
Of course, it�s entirely possible that we have one of those carriers who pocket all the greeting cards, in case they have cash or gift cards in them. Hey, it happens.
ETA: Mofo Diaryland dropped a big chunk of my entry. So the title doesn't even make any fucking sense now. DAMMIT!
Reading: �Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery Magazine�, September 1998.
Listening: The Cranberries, 4 Non-Blondes, and other stuff I used to listen to in the 90s.
At Random: click here
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