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The requirement to go to work for 9 hours a day is over for the year.  The actual work I need to get done before I go back on January 2nd is not.  Fortunately it’s not stuff that I really need to be at the office to do.  I need to finish updating some records on a spreadsheet (in the cloud) and I need to revise a course I’m teaching on the 6th.  But none of that can get done until after I get the chores done this weekend.

Josh and I went out for a “date” last night.  Well, we went to dinner and the grocery store, and when you’re an old married couple that’s what a date looks like.  I take what I can get these days.  The food was great, we had a really nice time without having cocktails, and then it was good at the grocery store.  Mom had asked me to pick up some of those fancy tooth picks with the frilly stuff at the tops.  I had no idea where those would be so I found a woman who worked there and asked her.  She wasn’t sure either but said the guys at the deli would know.  The deli guys said they didn’t carry them, but hey we’ll give you a little bag of the ones we use.  And they picked out just the red and green ones.  And they refused to let me pay for them.  Love that store.

Josh has been a little better, though I know he was getting impatient with me last week.  I wasn’t hardly able to talk to him and because of the kinds of stuff I was doing at work I was coming home utterly exhausted.  I had told him that I’d take care of the holiday shopping today while he’s at work but he threw a temper tantrum.  Whatever dude, I guess I’ll just do all of the “women’s work” at home by myself and then have to go shopping with you – you who can’t make up your fucking mind about your own stuff.  Yeah, this ought to be SUPER.

I’ve been trying to listen to a little Christmas music to get myself in the spirit, but it’s not helping much.  It just kind of feels like so much bullshit right now.  Josh always has to try to one-up his ex when it comes to presents for the brat, no one in his family has any kind of knack for getting gifts so we end up with shit we can’t use and don’t want (I know it’s the spirit of the thing, but honestly, these people don’t put any spirit in it), and Christmas Eve – which used to be my favorite part of the holiday – has been consistently ruined by my sister fighting with damn near anyone who dares speak to her for as long as my feeble brain cares to remember.

I have been reading stories on Facebook about people around the world reaching out to their fellow humans and doing really nice things.  There was the kid in Essex who used his “extreme couponing” skills to give close to $1000 worth of groceries – which he paid 7 CENTS for – to disadvantaged families who had less than he and his mom.  (he and his mom were not even close to well off, mind you)  I watched the video about the little girl who’s dad is a government contractor and has been working in the Middle East and she told Santa all she wanted was to see her daddy.  And he came home, and pretended to be Santa and surprised her.  I cried watching that one.  I’m getting teary now.

The holidays just make me weepy.  I spent the very worst Christmas of my life in the psych ward, getting entangled with one of the biggest mistakes of my life.  And I miss my dad.  And I still wonder if I’m doing the right thing with my life.

I need a vacation.  I don’t need to go anywhere, but I need some time to relax and do the things that I’d like to do instead of always doing the things I have to do.  I’d like Josh to realize that his contribution to what goes on around here needs to be more than a shitty paycheck twice a month and help grudgingly given.  I want him to put some weight behind the words that float out of his mouth.  Don’t tell me how much you miss me and love me – SHOW me.

And he’s going to have to go to Tax Court.  I know nothing about this, but I suspect that we’ll still end up paying every last dime the IRS says he owes, plus there’s the interest and late fees that continue to add up.  And he’ll have to miss a day of work.  I’ve already decided that he’s on his own for this.  I didn’t make this fucking mess, I’m done trying to help him with it.  He decided it was the better idea to appeal this, he can live with the consequences of that choice.

Sweet jesus, I am a raging bitch this morning.

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