All this Christmas sentiment is getting to me, I thought. Two nights ago, I became increasingly irritable throughout the evening; everything was getting under my skin. My husband was, I thought, an unbearable asshole and the kids were insane, obnoxious, and loud. I crabbed around the house then said, at 7:45, that I was going to bed, much to the relief of everyone in my house. I crawled into bed, only to tell my husband that I must be getting sick, since I was so tired and achy and sad. My husband thought for a minute, then asked if it was possible I was getting my period. Hey! Suddenly everything made sense!
Pre-Christmas sentimentality plus upcoming ladies’ holidays equals a supremely irritable, weepy, emotional wreck.
I spent yesterday morning listening to White Wine in the Sun and Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas on repeat, and crying. They’ll be drinking white wine in the sun…I sang along, chokingly, tears running down my face as I chopped vegetables. Mercifully my fingers are all still intact. This is not unlike when I was 14 and would be horribly depressed about the awfulness of life in junior high, and then sit in my dark room listening to Leonard Cohen, or Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here. Cathartic? Possibly. Helpful? No.
Fortunately my girlfriends suggested a nice long walk with our dogs in the afternoon, with the sun shining and the blue sky so lovely against the snow. That, along with a peppermint Lindor, lifted me right out of my weepy lunacy.
Also somewhat cheering is the sight out my front window. My single male neighbour seems to be exercising his artistic side by making snow sculptures:
Look closely. The female snowman has giant snow breasts. And even though my neighbour lives alone and possibly always will, the sight of this snowman couple, with the giant breasts and the coffee cup, makes me smile. Actually, on another level it’s a bit depressing, but let’s just gloss over that for now. A snow couple! Happy! Happy thoughts! Let your heart be light….
Here we are on the eve of Festivus! Festivus for the rest of us. And in the spirit of Festivus, I shall air my current grievance – and no, it has nothing to do with the idea that maybe that snowwoman has had some work done. It is that I was watching the news (or “news”) on Monday morning, and the caption for one of the breaking news stories was “Kim John Il Dead”. JOHN. Kim JOHN Il. Global Calgary, try proof reading. It’s awesome. I expect better from you; you aren’t Breakfast Television.
In general, spelling and grammatical errors are a grievance to me. We all make the occasional mistake, but generally, I feel all HULK SMASH when words are used incorrectly or misspelled. Especially if those words are in a Christmas newsletter. It’s not spelled HOLLIDAY, extended family member who shall remain anonymous. And it’s “oops”, not “opps”. And punctuation is there for a reason!
Time for some calming ujjayi breaths, I think. But tell me, in the spirit of Festivus, do you have any grievances to air?
You do NOT want to give me an open invitation to air grievances right now. The internets will break into a million pieces.
I was just thinking the same thing as Hannah.
It is a good idea that I not start or I will never ever stop.
I hate coworkers who buy a gift and give it to you in the morning then come by in the afternoon like “Where’s mine?” Like I was suppose to run out at lunch and get them something. Christmas is the spirit of GIVING so if you GIVE me something I don’t have to do anything except say “Thank You”. My ten bucks is staying in my pocket so I can give myself a glass of wine later but THANK YOU for the cheap ass chocolates…… Sincerely Mrs. Bah F-ing Humbug Grinch (Thanks for listening)
I like the boobs on that snowman. Er, I mean snowwoman, I guess…
Oops (opps) looks like I jumped the gun on Festivus and aired my grievances all over two other blogs yesterday. I know better than to get started again. Could barely stop myself already…
The snowwoman boobs are hilarious.
Hope you have a happy holiday.
I had one, but I forget what it was. I did say to my husband earlier “sorry I’m all over the board but it’s your fault because you went to Japan a week before Christmas so suck it up, okay honey?”
I want a dog and you to walk my dog with me.
That is a brave (by which I mean foolhardy) man who floats the PMS theory.
One of my grievances is people who write to the local paper to complain that they don’t know why people say “Happy holidays” as if there’s a holiday other than Christmas, DUH.
Isn’t it great/extremely irritating when your partner knows you so well?
Punctuation saves lives:
Let’s eat, Grandpa!
Let’s eat Grandpa!
Keep up the walks and the mint chocolate. This, too, shall pass.
If it had been “King John II” it would have been EVEN BETTER.
My grievances, as usual, relate to the insanity of drivers in my city.
Also, I wish that houses were self-cleaning.
Merry Christmas!
While frantically doing some last minute shopping earlier this week I saw THREE pickup trucks each parked to take up FOUR parking spaces. Like their pickup trucks are so freakin special.
Happy holidays and thanks for the great reading!