It's cold outside.
Haven't really used this for much besides following others in the longest time, but I couldn't think of anywhere else to emo out.
Growing up, I had quite the fill of nuclear family Christmas imagery and propaganda. Alternating visits to different sets of grandparents each year, presents, Santa, et cetera. On top of that, I thought, for the longest time, that I'd either be with or find someone to be with during or straight out of college, and be schlepping day to day at a mediocre but not too depressing job to help for our decent apartment or eh-grade mortgage.
It's Chrimbus 2010, and I'm pretty single. My father's passed away, and when it comes to my mother's side, her mother also died a few years back, and not long after that, my grandfather disowned my mom, my brother, and I. As for my mother herself, as much as it makes me feel like a terrible son, I've run out of patience for her numerous idiosyncracies, and there's a good chance I've put a dent in her holiday cheer by refusing to be guilt-tripped over a big nothing she was trying to turn into something. I worked today, a day most people would consider a holiday, for several rungs of incompetents whose antics constantly erode at my sanity, and will be the death of me if I don't find an out soon.
Tomorrow, I'm having dinner with the handful of family still remaining on my father's side, along with some of my uncle's family, most likely the ones whom I don't feel comfortable around because they're pretty much all successful in business and/or financial realms. Granted, I am kind of curious to see whether the whole crisis that dropped between the last time I saw any of them and now has knocked any of them down a few pegs. Then I'm off to the bar, because standing over a fryer and doing a handful of dishes over the course of a few hours felt like a better use of my time than coming home to a messy, lonely apartment.
It's not so much that I'm down that it is I'm... numb, I guess. The holidays used to be a fairly magical thing for me. I was all about decorating, lights, gifts, holiday specials, the music. Now, I'm staring at two boxes of lights I didn't even have/find time to open and string up anywhere. The 25th is just another day, one where I'm a bit lost in the whirl of hype, and wishing I could stop someplace for a bag of pretzels. And it's not as if I have much to look forward to next week, either; I'm stuck working again, late, on New Year's Eve, and at the job I hate, rather than the place I feel I could be an asset, since I know the kitchen's going to get hammered. No getting hammered in a different sense for me, either, since I have to be back at that hole at six the following morning.
This time of year has basically become something I dread, and I hate that. All I want for Christmas is to not want to punch someone in the head. And maybe someone else's family to spend some of it with. I hope all of you who do have a great time waiting for you in the morning relish it, though - don't let me bring you down, as I figure I'll get my wish sooner or later.
(And Dave, if you're reading this, no, I am nowhere near entertaining thoughts of suicide. I'm not sure what made you think that earlier, either.)
Growing up, I had quite the fill of nuclear family Christmas imagery and propaganda. Alternating visits to different sets of grandparents each year, presents, Santa, et cetera. On top of that, I thought, for the longest time, that I'd either be with or find someone to be with during or straight out of college, and be schlepping day to day at a mediocre but not too depressing job to help for our decent apartment or eh-grade mortgage.
It's Chrimbus 2010, and I'm pretty single. My father's passed away, and when it comes to my mother's side, her mother also died a few years back, and not long after that, my grandfather disowned my mom, my brother, and I. As for my mother herself, as much as it makes me feel like a terrible son, I've run out of patience for her numerous idiosyncracies, and there's a good chance I've put a dent in her holiday cheer by refusing to be guilt-tripped over a big nothing she was trying to turn into something. I worked today, a day most people would consider a holiday, for several rungs of incompetents whose antics constantly erode at my sanity, and will be the death of me if I don't find an out soon.
Tomorrow, I'm having dinner with the handful of family still remaining on my father's side, along with some of my uncle's family, most likely the ones whom I don't feel comfortable around because they're pretty much all successful in business and/or financial realms. Granted, I am kind of curious to see whether the whole crisis that dropped between the last time I saw any of them and now has knocked any of them down a few pegs. Then I'm off to the bar, because standing over a fryer and doing a handful of dishes over the course of a few hours felt like a better use of my time than coming home to a messy, lonely apartment.
It's not so much that I'm down that it is I'm... numb, I guess. The holidays used to be a fairly magical thing for me. I was all about decorating, lights, gifts, holiday specials, the music. Now, I'm staring at two boxes of lights I didn't even have/find time to open and string up anywhere. The 25th is just another day, one where I'm a bit lost in the whirl of hype, and wishing I could stop someplace for a bag of pretzels. And it's not as if I have much to look forward to next week, either; I'm stuck working again, late, on New Year's Eve, and at the job I hate, rather than the place I feel I could be an asset, since I know the kitchen's going to get hammered. No getting hammered in a different sense for me, either, since I have to be back at that hole at six the following morning.
This time of year has basically become something I dread, and I hate that. All I want for Christmas is to not want to punch someone in the head. And maybe someone else's family to spend some of it with. I hope all of you who do have a great time waiting for you in the morning relish it, though - don't let me bring you down, as I figure I'll get my wish sooner or later.
(And Dave, if you're reading this, no, I am nowhere near entertaining thoughts of suicide. I'm not sure what made you think that earlier, either.)