Monday, December 25, 2006

It's 11 o'clock on Christmas night, do you know where your blogger is?

She's in the family room crying whilst her husband and son sleep upstairs. Gosh, I hate holidays and am so glad Christmas is finally fricking over. Now, if I can just hold it together through New Year I'll be set, but let's just say the hysterical nature of this evening's crying is not making me think I'll be holding anything together. And did you know there is not not actually anything wrong with me other than usual stuff? What the hell is wrong with me and the crying and the hysterical? And the tears and teh jaw that is quivering. What is up with this? Is this what seasonal disorder is about becaue we're passed the solstice, so I should start perking up any day now. And would you buy my house so I can get out of limbo purgatory? And if I wipe my snot on my sleeve will it come out in the wash without a pre-treatment for stains?

For the record I have nothing good to say about anyone or anything right now and that I hate everyone and everything but I think it's all in my own mind because I just expect too much of others. In fact, I probably hate everyone because I expect the same of others as I expect of myself. I have very high expectations for myself in case that wasn't already abundantly clear. I must be the best mother, wife, homemaker, baker, present buyer, etc. If you aren't going to try, just get a gift card to a place you know I frequent. Is that so hard? I go to Target 8 times per week, so that's a good choice. Amazon is also nice. Borders is fine. Meijer is good. Mom, if you are reading this, a small store near the Mojave desert with no return policy is not a good option of where to purchase all of my gifts.

Oh, and my husband got me a very nice present that made me cry (and I apologized profusely because the gift really was quite nice, I'm just a raging lunatic).

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