Fuckin' I have started, like, five entries only to never finish them due to Holiday Overload aka Emotional Breakdown Time, Happy Holidays! To further complicate the eleventy billion things I have to do before Friday (wrap presents, punch Mailroom Guy in the throat*, finish painting hallway, finish making Christmas gifts, shop for and prepare festive food, clean the entire house, consider the idea of doing Christmas cards and laugh heartily blah blah blah.), wait what? I have no idea what was further complicating things. So, yeah, a little stressed out.

I went to yoga last night to try to chill out a little, but damn, did that ever backfire. See, the thing with yoga is that you're supposed to quiet up your mind and find your "center". This sounds great, but what if your center is worried? And what if your brain, excited by the free time, takes the quiet meditation as an excuse to really address all those nagging worries you've been shoving aside? Yay! Relaxing! Halfway though the class I was downward dogging my way to a nervous breakdown.

I tried to quiet my brain and tell it to worry later, but it was seriously ON A ROLL. "Money! Debt! Need to go to the eye doctor! Out of contact lenses! Don't forget to order your prescription! Did you forget about that $100 check that you wrote? Whooops! Time to balance the check book! Don't forget your left brake cable needs replacing. I hope that stain on your new skirt comes out. No Christmas cards again this year? People will think you hate them." It went on and on and on and I managed to make it all the way through the class and all the way home before weeping quietly over dinner preparations. Stress, it's what's for dinner. After a little food and a beer I was fine, but I wish I knew how to cope better so things don't overwhelm me so easily.

In other news, my mother is acting a little crazy. I don't generally discuss my mother's brand of crazy on the internet because I fear she will one day stumble across my journal, but lets just say that she's TAXING me. She calls, under the guise of "missing" me, but really she just wants me to move Object B to Location G. The next week she'll call and say that Object A is now being blocked by Object B so both need to be moved to Location F and she can't possibly do it alone and could reeeeeelly use my help. It never, ever stops.

This week she's been sending me emails regarding my Christmas Eve party which she apparently thinks is her job to stage manage. Dear Mom, no, it's not. My party, my rules. And no, please don't bring your five-day-old tuna dip. And no, I don't want whatever broken household item you're trying to unload. And, please, don't try to give me the broken household item as a Christmas "gift". Don't. Want. It. I love you!

This week has also been interesting because on Sunday night there was a thunderstorm but instead of rain we got snow. And thunder. What is that? It was cool until the next morning when the ice and arctic cold made everyone drive like idiots. Hi, if there are big sheets of ice on the road perhaps you should hang up your Goddamn CELL PHONE and drive with a little more care.

Driving my car when it's really, really cold out it similar to driving a very small stagecoach. The struts squeak, the steering wheel squeaks, and each pothole feels more like a gaping dirt-road rut. It's good holiday fun, driving a very small stagecoach. It's especially fun when your small stagecoach only weighs about 20 pounds and slides, slides, slides across the ice like a greased puck. Lovely.

*Crimes include: "Heeelllooooo THeyah!" "Are you ready for the holidays?" "Ho HO HO!" "HAVE A BLESSED CHRISTMAS!" and also? I discovered that he works at my grocery store. Will the world ever be free of Mailroom Guy?

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Hey, it's random letter time!

Dear Anthropologie,
You little bastards. I have ZERO dollars and when the beautiful shoes I've been coveting were $228 they seemed so inaccessible that it really wasn't an issue. So thanks a lot for putting them on sale NOW. $100 is still more than I can afford, but Goddamn do I want them. I hate you guys. I hate that I'm so totally your demographic except for the salary part. Assholes.
Love,
Adrien

PS. I appreciate that the shoes are website only as you've spared me the embarrassment of weeping over them publicly.

*****

Dear Fox Network Bastards,
That new show "House" sure does stink! I've watched every episode just to be sure. I know you guys live to cancel shows I love, so I thought I'd let you know that I HATE this one so much! I bet you thought you were so smart putting my high school crush, Robert Sean Leonard, in the cast, didn't you? Well guess what, I'm just not that into him anymore! Ha ha ha! Also, The other guys aren't that cute either. Not even a little tiny bit. Not even with the British accent or the puppy-dog eyes. Yuck! Also, Hugh Laurie? What a hack. Didn't like him as Bertie Wooster, hate him as a snarky, sarcastic doctor. I hate snark! Also, sarcasm! None of that here, no sir. Where's Marcus Welby, M.D. when you need him?
Sincerely, no, really,
Adrien

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Happy Winter Solstice, my little monkeys! Drink up!

3 chatty monkeys