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Slouching Towards
Dec. 28th, 2008 02:53 pmHey, all. So...once again, an utterly sleepless and almost completely useless night, following hard on the heels of a very late night and an extremely tired day. The previous sleep-related problems I can understand, because I forgot to take my pill the morning before (and now have slept through the point at which I would normally take my pill, so I guess I know what I'll be doing tonight). But otherwise...I suppose it might have something to do with A) having decided to go back on my Lose Weight Fast diet, since I am bloated and grotesque (which, since it involves cutting out bread, often immediately leads to constipation/diarrhea) or B) the constant bugaboo, stress. One way or the other, it's been a literally shitty couple of days, and I mislike what this pattern might bode for the coming year.
Christmas = okay. The Eve was Cal being bugfuck most of the time, but Mom finally caved on the idea that yes, her apartment really is not made to sleep three adults at a time, and let Steve and I go home overnight. Christmas Day we spent making gluten-free cookies (only one type--I sort of thought that two types was a tad ambitious, especially since it turned out Mom now only has a single functional cookie sheet), and had a vague "discussion" about constant wound-poking: She was annoyed that I had taken Cal's "indoor " shoes to JK (because they asked for them, as an alternative to the kids walking around in boots or socks all day) and then left them there over the holidays; I was annoyed that she genuinely didn't seem to get that yes, I knew this was a mistake and yet no, I couldn't fucking do anything about it (not least because we had no money to rush out and just buy him new ones, on command).
"I don't understand why you're so disorganized," she said. 'To piss you off?" I replied, thinking: But wouldn't the REALLY disorganized thing be if I'd never remembered to take them to school at all?
Naturally, that didn't go over too well.
"Here's the funny part, for me," I finally said. "I was going to say: 'Man, you wouldn't talk to a dog the way you talk to me, sometimes'...but unfortunately, I know that's just not true, because yesterday we had a whole conversation about how you'd happily shoot your mouth off at any 'friend' you thought had just done something similarly stupid. So great, consistency--and I guess the whole problem here is still ME, right? For hopelessly continuing to want something I damn well know will never happen."
Classic Dr Phil logic! Yes, I'm SO SMART. Too bad it alters nothing.
Anyhoo. The good part is that because we did leave early, presents already opened, we were able to attend Christmas Eve Midnight Mass at Saint Michael's Cathedral, which I think Steve needed. It was glorious--a full choir and organ, the Northern Brass, french horns and kettle-drums, a global selection of music. I ruined my feet standing for three selections at a time at one point, and my voice sounded truly hideous on the chime-in carols, but it was still fairly magical; we even emerged into a relatively light snowstorm which began to melt by morning, giving us all the effects of a fabled White Christmas with few of the drawbacks.
Now, after two days of steady rain and thick mist, it's definitely veering more towards the Slushmas end of the scale, and I know Steve is going to have to take his parents' car back soon. But Mom's promised to take Cal again for tonight...
More later. Happy Merry.
Christmas = okay. The Eve was Cal being bugfuck most of the time, but Mom finally caved on the idea that yes, her apartment really is not made to sleep three adults at a time, and let Steve and I go home overnight. Christmas Day we spent making gluten-free cookies (only one type--I sort of thought that two types was a tad ambitious, especially since it turned out Mom now only has a single functional cookie sheet), and had a vague "discussion" about constant wound-poking: She was annoyed that I had taken Cal's "indoor " shoes to JK (because they asked for them, as an alternative to the kids walking around in boots or socks all day) and then left them there over the holidays; I was annoyed that she genuinely didn't seem to get that yes, I knew this was a mistake and yet no, I couldn't fucking do anything about it (not least because we had no money to rush out and just buy him new ones, on command).
"I don't understand why you're so disorganized," she said. 'To piss you off?" I replied, thinking: But wouldn't the REALLY disorganized thing be if I'd never remembered to take them to school at all?
Naturally, that didn't go over too well.
"Here's the funny part, for me," I finally said. "I was going to say: 'Man, you wouldn't talk to a dog the way you talk to me, sometimes'...but unfortunately, I know that's just not true, because yesterday we had a whole conversation about how you'd happily shoot your mouth off at any 'friend' you thought had just done something similarly stupid. So great, consistency--and I guess the whole problem here is still ME, right? For hopelessly continuing to want something I damn well know will never happen."
Classic Dr Phil logic! Yes, I'm SO SMART. Too bad it alters nothing.
Anyhoo. The good part is that because we did leave early, presents already opened, we were able to attend Christmas Eve Midnight Mass at Saint Michael's Cathedral, which I think Steve needed. It was glorious--a full choir and organ, the Northern Brass, french horns and kettle-drums, a global selection of music. I ruined my feet standing for three selections at a time at one point, and my voice sounded truly hideous on the chime-in carols, but it was still fairly magical; we even emerged into a relatively light snowstorm which began to melt by morning, giving us all the effects of a fabled White Christmas with few of the drawbacks.
Now, after two days of steady rain and thick mist, it's definitely veering more towards the Slushmas end of the scale, and I know Steve is going to have to take his parents' car back soon. But Mom's promised to take Cal again for tonight...
More later. Happy Merry.
