Here it is Christmas Eve and I'm at work even though I don't work for Ebenezer Scrooge. Actually, being at work is just fine with me, since I'm the only person here and everyone who comes in seems to be friendly and cheerful and, biggest bonus of all, it's nice and quiet and tidy here and not one single person is going to stand in front of the refrigerator rubbing their stomach and saying "Moooooom. . . hungry, so hungry." I'm on vacation for a week, actually, beginning tomorrow and I foresee that there will be a lot of that going on, since I came to my financial senses and realized that I couldn't possibly afford to rent a house at the beach for a week. Alas. That's okay; I bought a lottery ticket at BJs yesterday and soon I will be a bazillionaire, which will totally solve all my problems. No, honestly, it will. I have to win, because I got confused about the rules again and ended up spending $8 on the ticket, which I believe gives me several chances, or maybe not. BJs has hauled in an older relative to help out and his English is about as good as my Hindustani, so we may never know. Also he glowers and I didn't want to try to wade through both the language and the glowering barrier for something as dumb as a lottery ticket. I only buy maybe two a year, so I'm never up on how to do it properly.
I tried to put on my Christmas sweater this morning (why yes, I do own a Christmas sweater, a frighteningly tasteful sort of homemade looking Christmas sweater that I didn't even realize was a Christmas sweater when my mother first gave it to me - until my brother said, "Is that a Christmas sweater? That's a Christmas sweater! You're wearing a Christmas sweater!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!) but it's actually even uglier than I remember it and I couldn't, at the end, wear the damn thing. So I'm wearing bling instead - shiny green bracelet, shiny necklace, shirt with sort of shiny stuff - and hoping it's seasonal enough to do. I'm not wearing a fucking Santa hat; the only people you see wearing those are construction workers, crackheads and terrifying suburban soccer moms. I am none of those things nor even a crack smoking suburban construction working Mom (although that has some promise); therefore, no Santa hat. I did, however, purchase a set of antlers which I've been trying to get the dogs to wear with no success. I will persevere, however, persevere like hell because I also purchased my annual bottle of Jamesons and some eggnog even though it has high fructose corn syrup in it. Sealtest, I'm looking at you. Is nothing sacred?
Hopefully everybody will like their presents because I am done shopping and I am going to go home and wrap things. It's tougher as the kids get older - they still want presents but they also want cash and everything they want costs like a month's salary anyway. As my friend N used to say, when they're babies you can spend $100 and get almost 100 big presents under the tree; when they're teenagers you can spend $100 and get one teeny box. Which they will bitch about anyway. Ah well. Yesterday I saw a guy on a scooter wearing a full face skull mask and a mirrored helmet. If he'd been wearing a Santa suit my holiday would have been complete. Merry merry, y'all.
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