This is about the point in the holiday spectrum where I feel like curling up in a ball and crying, hiding under the covers until it's all passed.
Well, you know - more than I normally do.
It's stupid. I just blow things out of proportion, and probably set myself up to feel like a shmuck. I used to feel like I was pretty good at gift-giving. Now I feel like everything I give is just an example of how lazy, thoughtless, and lame I am. It doesn't help that I'm about out of money at this point, but even if I wasn't I'm not sure I'd have any more of an idea of brilliant, thoughtful gifts to buy that would make me feel proud to give people. I know the money spent isn't what's most important, but still. Ugh.
Over the last 3 nights, I made up a bunch of cookies from recipes I hadn't tried before. While a little part of me wants to be proud of that, the gloomy-grumbly side of me is just thinking of how they should've been so much better considering the time spent on them, and how I always seem to fuck up at least the first dozen, even when it's a simple recipe. And giving these to my boss is probably just as half-assed as my overall job performance. So there's that.
But, as I'm known to do, I'm thinking of myself too much. I'm my own worst critic, I just tend to think that that's what everyone else thinks of me, if that makes sense. Every little thing I do - good or bad - is probably not critiqued as severely as I think it is. (Er, hopefully.)
And just to pile on the ol' grief, there's the nagging "bad family juju" thoughts in the back of my mind. Last year, between Thanksgiving and Christmas my brother managed to get himself arrested, get out on bond, and then get sent back to the slammer after committing the same damn offense while awaiting his sentencing on the original offense. My parents did what they could to help with legal aid, counseling and support, among other things. But it pretty much threw everyone for a loop and put quite a damper on Christmas. But life went on and he served his time and all that. Then just a couple weeks ago, my mom called to tell me "Your brother's not doing well - he's back in jail again. Same thing as last time." Well, Merry fucking Christmas again. I don't know how to feel. Guilty for feeling angry and somewhat disgusted by his behavior, but then also being honestly angry and disgusted by his behavior. Worried that he might really have lost his mind and that his actions are in some way out of his control. Guilty for not doing more to contact him and help in some way. Sad. Feeling really sorry for my parents, who I imagine are thinking "how did our kids end up being such shits?" (Except they wouldn't say "shits" and might not include my oldest brother in their disappointment - he's doing pretty well, but he is all the way in Australia.) Bah!
We've got company coming to stay with us next week. While they are probably my favorite people to have come visit (J's brother and his wife) - I just feel the pressure. That our accommodations aren't good enough, that I'm too depressed/depressing to be a good hostess. That there aren't enough places to sit or sleep comfortably. That I'm selfish and want to enjoy some alone time in the little time I have off. But again, it's not all about me.
Don't mind me, just venting! I know there's plenty to enjoy and be grateful for this holiday season. Sorry to be such a downer there, folks.