Dec 17, 2004

It looks as if a bitter arctic storm is looming, threatening our weekend plans of finishing the Christmas shopping and getting together with friends. We may end up snowed in, forced to cuddle together in front of the fireplace with mugs of warm spiced wine. Darn.

I'm having a little bit of Christmas anxiety today, stemming from viewing my current credit card balance and thinking of Christmas gifts we have yet to purchase. I'm so bad with money, I like to buy too much for people during the holidays. It makes me nervous. I need a glass of wine.

I'm also getting anxious about New Year's Eve. We're having a few people over for a potluck dinner, and a few more over later in the evening for drinks and the countdown, which is a guest list that keeps growing and growing. I'm not worried about the number of people because we have plenty of space, just having enough booze and glasses to serve everyone without breaking the bank. So if you want to come to my house New Year's Eve, the more the merrier. But bring a bottle of champagne, and don't laugh when you are handed a juice glass or a plastic champagne flute. We're doing the countdown on the roof, weather permitting. Should be fun.

I'm sort of afraid to eat breakfast today due to the martini, g&t and glass of wine I ingested at a holiday party last night. This is becoming a worrisome routine, being slightly hungover at work on Fridays...but it's the holidays so screw it. I came home last night to an empty apartment again; Hubb was working late for the second night in a row. I was slightly sad at the party because I was dateless, but after an adorable gay man gave me his phone number my mood greatly improved. I just might call him next time Hubb is working into the wee hours of the morning, if only for a martini drinking buddy.


I keep going back to this, but I want to make it clear that I am a total hypocrite. And an asshole.

But I feel much better after I've vented, and in order not to drive my friends and husband batty, this is the venue for my venting. I think that most of the reason that I dwell on my co-worker's diet habits is that I care about them. I am part therapist listening to horror stories of shopping in the plus-size department, and then part jerk when I comment on the Frito consumption. I need to get over it. I think I need more therapy than this weblog can provide. And anti-asshole pills.

So my PayPal has been hijacked and I keep getting e-mails saying I've added an e-mail address to my account, and sending me receipts for payments I didn't authorize. I'm in touch with the PayPal authorities who promise I am not being charged and my account is still secure, but the e-mails are frightening me something fierce. The last one said I paid $279 for some phone thing. I assure you I do not need a phone thing, nor would I be spending $279 for a phone thing right now. Sometimes I really hate the internet. It sometimes drives me to drink.

I think I may take a long walk outside today, now that isn't almost above freezing. I need a little bit of exercise, and some fresh air would do me good. Maybe I can release some of this anxiety and fear and asshole-ness and come back refreshed and happy and calm and ready for the dinner my boss is hosting at her house tonight. Needless to say, I'm nervous about that, too. It would be freakish if I weren't. God damn I need a glass of wine.

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