Tag Archives: holiday insanity

Stop the Holiday Insanity Ride, I Wanna Get Off

I know I've used this in a past post, but it just perfectly describes how insane I feel right about now.

I know I’ve used this in a past post, but it just says it all.  It’s a re-gift.  This photo.  In honor of The Holidays.  Because if I re-gifted more often, perhaps I wouldn’t feel so nuts.

I decided that I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas.  I mean, I don’t want to sound like a Scrooge but come on.  The pressure to do all the crap that needs to get done in a short period of time is friggin’ ridiculous.  Unfortunately, I am not a Type A personality like my mother.  She had her gifts bought and wrapped by August.  I kid you not.  But the thought of having my shit together so early kind of scares me.  I wouldn’t even know who I was.  Besides, with the condition of my memory lately, I probably would forget where I put half of it come December.

I started my day in a state of total disbelief and panic.  “Holy Freaking Shit,” I said to myself.  “How the hell am I going to get it all done?”  Piss poor planning does not necessarily blah blah blah.  I don’t want to hear it.  I know most of you feel the same way.  Be honest.  If you don’t, then you are June Freaking Cleaver and deserve a medal.

Just so you know, I had a full-out temper tantrum this morning.  That included tears, foot stomping and hair pulling (yes, I pulled my own hair.  Throwing dishes would have been a good option, but I happen to like my dishes so my follicles got abused instead).  It was just too much for me.  I melted down.  I’m not proud.

So here I am, writing this post when I should be putting stamps on my Christmas cards. Christmas cards that I don’t even like because the kid wanted a family picture this year.   My neck looks like a side of beef, my boobs are a little floppy and I’m doing that stupid hand on hip pose that I hate but completely understand why it’s done because not all 46 year old women can get away with sleeveless dresses so it’s a great trick at alleviating arm fat (that thought deserved a run-on sentence…sorry grammar freaks, including me).  I could have orchestrated a new photo shoot.  But that requires time.  And I felt like doing that like I feel like cleaning dog crap off the bottom of my shoes.  So a picture that was taken in May was the winner based on the fact that we are smiling AND all eyes are open.  That right there is a miracle…and a keeper.

christmas card photo

My eyes ARE open even though they look like slits.  I thank Mother Freaking Nature for that.

I think I need Holiday Hell Counseling.  Seriously.  I don’t care what, but we need to start a chapter somewhere.  But, until we can get HH Anonymous going, this is my therapy.  Thanks for listening.  Bah Humbug.  I mean, Merry Christmas!