Definitely faking the joy now.

Arrival. Suburbia. My childhood home.

I’ve been here barely an hour and I’ve already been told that I’m not eating enough, that my shirt is too tight on me and that I’m a fool for having the job I have.

Ah. I love my family.


Only partially faking the joy.

I don’t travel well, particularly when it involves family. I get myself way more stressed out than I need to be.

I rented my car yesterday for the holiday weekend–it was rather less expensive than I expected it would be and it will be nice to be able not to worry about other people having to shuttle my sorry ass around all weekend.

I’m working today in an hour, until 4, which is not going to be pretty, methinks. Not only am I on the verge of getting sick, I expect it’s going to be a madhouse since I’m working at our highest volume store. It should be relatively okay, though–I’m on as an extra person so that should help to take some of the pressure off everyone. I was on as an extra last Saturday, too, and it really wasn’t too bad.

So, after work, I come home and pack (which mostly will be grabbing my toiletries and my dirty laundry plus what I plan to wear Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, which is all already clean) and then hitting the road.

The game plan is as follows:

Drive to mum’s tonight, stopping at aunt’s to pick up her Kitchen Aid.
See high school friends tonight and/or tomorrow morning.
Commence panettone baking tomorrow morning early enough that it will be done by midafternoon-ish so that it has a chance to cool.
Have dinner with mum’s family on Christmas Eve before heading into Boston for Midnight Mass. Because I’m a queen like that and need some high church excitement.
After that, drive two hours west to grandparents’, which should get me there around 3 am.
Sleep, with the option to get up to go to church with the grandparents’ at 10.30.
Be merry. Eat. Enjoy the family.
Drive four hours back to Portland Monday night so as to be home and ready to go to work at 7.30 on Tuesday (an hour later than usual. Yay!).

I’m stressed out about having a rental car. I’m stressed out about getting sick. I’m stressed out about the fact that I’ve never made panettone before and that I’ll be making it in my mother’s kitchen (because she’ll be standing over my shoulder the whole time, criticising how messy I’m being–never mind the fact that she would never undertake such a recipe). I’m stressed out about the fact that I didn’t get anything for anyone even though I generally don’t and give a donation to charity every year instead because who really needs more stuff (particularly my father’s side the family–we’re all such pack rats)? I’m stressed out about work today because I really don’t want to work today. I’d rather sleep until noon or so and then hit the road and have a four day weekend. That would have been sweet but, alas, it was not to be.

And what’s with the high of 7c today and rain?! I want a white Chirstmas, dammit.

Season’s greetings. Happy holidays. Merry Christmas. Happy Hanukkah. Joyous Kwanza. Happy Eid. Merry Festivus. Happy Solstice. (Did I miss anyone?)

And big, big, big hugs to you all and best wishes for a joy filled new year. (I’ll probably post again before the new year, but in case I don’t…)