"Madame Scrooge, we've got the Counting House on Line One"

These darned holidays, they really do bring out the Scrooginess in me. I hate it. Why can't I just be like Martha Stewart (pre-criminal days) and just bring everything together with a stiff, pasted on smile?? Have my Christmas cards addressed and mailed.

Shit, have Christmas cards TO mail!

Every single year without fail I PROMISE myself that next year will be different. I will pick up thoughtful gifts for friends and family throughout the year. I will plan for the holidays in advance and set aside money for last minute gifts and donations and parties and so forth. I will actually buy AND mail out Christmas cards to 76 of my closest friends and family. There will be thoughtful notes and perhaps even a photo included. My tree will be decorated with care and love. I will have stockings, they will be hung and they will be stuffed. I will bake goodies and have little gifts for everyone who crosses my path. I will be festively dressed without sinking to rock bottom and actually wearing Christmas sweaters, just do little things -- like have a jingle bell necklace or Christmas light earrings.

And it never happens and I spend the majority of December beating myself up for being such a terrible daughter, girlfriend, cousin, friend, granddaughter, etc etc etc. I can bearly see the red and green because of the black and blue I've put myself through. I just let everything go to the wayside and it makes me feel terrible and I can't even enjoy much of anything anymore. I can't just relax.

I want to just relax. But, I just don't see how that's possible when I'm worrying that I should buy Scott this or that or the other, or how I can't believe I don't have more stuff to give my mother and why am I not giving Scout a Christmas present? And what about getting ready for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day and now even Boxing Day? I have 6 things planned for 3 1/2 days. How is this possible?? When am I going to get to sit down and just breathe? Sit in front of the fireplace with my honey and have some eggnog??

I think I need to buy a Santa hat or an antler headband or some other such frothy Christmas silliness to try to remind myself that this is supposed to be a season of sharing and joy and love. Not commercialism and who did more for whom when.

I'm very blessed. And it's not like I'm a "Believer", but I do know this. I have it good. I have a man who loves me 97% of the time, both my parents are still alive to share the season with me, I have friends who support me in good times and in bad, and my boobs haven't completely hit the floor yet. So, things could be much, much worse.

And I don't friggin' care how the punch turns out, as long as there IS one.

I'm gonna go roast some chestnuts now...

HP