| ...a day in the life of a mouse |
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| ...a day in the life of a mouse |
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2004-12-23 - 12:30 p.m. Holy shit. New food addiction. Remember how I said all the ladies here keep bringing in baked goods and sweet treats? Well, at this point we’re kinda sugared out, yanno? I mean, I thought I was going to slip right into a diabetic coma yesterday from all the cookies and chocolates. So today, Josie (…and the pussycats) brought in rice stuffed grape leaves with tahini. (they have a name, but it’s foreign sounding and I forgot what it was about 0.0000025789 seconds after she told me). Again, Holy Shit. So good. I am addicted. I’m actually sitting here wondering if anyone would notice if I stole the whole tray and went and hid in the supply closet and ate them all. I’ll be calling Josie (…and the pussycats) up at 2 am, shaking and sweating, “josie, man, I ain’t doin’ so good. you gotta hook me up with some of those grapes leaves, man. Please!” Ya. Shortbread cookies are now out. And don’t even try to tempt me with no cheap ass Pot-of-Gold chocolates. Gimme some of those grapes leaf thingies or forget it! ::: ok, so my dad has been really sick. Very stressful. And I’m not sure if he’ll be going to my big bro’s house for Christmas. Actually, I’m not sure I even want to go. There will be other people there for dinner, too. People I don’t know. Pretty sure Husband would rather pull his own toenails out than celebrate with my family. Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas with my family, but I’m just not feelin’ it this year, ya know? I figured out I still have a little something to get my dad, and one other thing to get stevo and penny. I had a really really good idea for a gift for them, but it didn’t pan out, and now I got nothing. Well, not nothing, but not enough. They need one more present. This is where I would normally stay up all night painting/drawing/sewing/building something to give them on Christmas. But it’s just not in me to do it this year. So I have to go shopping….again. fuck. Have I ever mentioned how much I HATE being so last-minute and unorganized? Ya. Hate it. H-A-T-E. I’ve been pretty much ahead of the game this year, and want to keep it that way. Besides, it’s been a long fucking year, and I’m just plain tired. Also, I don’t know exactly how we’re getting out to stevo’s house for Christmas either. Our one remaining vehicle is kinda, um….small. technically it’s a 4-seater. However, the driver’s side front seat is kinda broken, so the rear driver’s side seat has a packing crate and various 2 x 4’s propping it up. While there is a remaining backseat, it’s awfully, awfully small. Did I mention this was a 2-door sporty type car? So whoever sits in the back either has to have detachable legs, or be abnormally, freakishly, small. That leaves no room for presents. Not that we have a lot, but we have to put them somewhere. What’s that you say? Why don’t we just put them in the trunk, you ask? Well, because the trunk is full of crap. Stuff that never made it into the house from the move. Stuff that no one knows where it even came from. Stuff that I’m sure multiplies all on it’s own to create more junk. Ok…I totally forgot the point of my rant. I’m not really sure there was one. I think I’m just all anxious about the holidays. I mean, I love Christmas, I really do, but I’m finding it’s more stress than joy, and that’s just kinda spoiling it all. I think next year, Christmas will be at our house, and if no one wants to come, then too fucking bad. It will be on MY schedule, and done the way I want it done. And I swear, this year I am buying all of next year’s presents at this year’s boxing day sales. In fact, I think I might just find a huge, tree-shaped dust cover, throw it over the Christmas tree, and prop it in the corner till next year. Gah. I need more sleep. Tired achy-ness is making me very Scrooge-esque. I don’t like it. ::: oh look. It’s 12:30 already and I am not even close to getting my line count. Actually, I’m not even at the halfway mark. Mmmmm, I love work. ::: btw, this morning's commute was brought to you by the retro stylings of ABBA. 
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