(no subject)
The past two weeks at work have been hellacious, and I'm glad they are over. Between two weeks of ten hour days without respite to the stress associated with the holidays at my work in and of themselves, I am thoroughly done with Christmas, thank you very much.
Not that mine wasn't nice, because it was. I had planned to spend my first day off in three weeks lounging around doing nothing and hoping to catch up on some sleep that I had neglected over the past few weeks. I had no real plans and certainly made sure that I had no obligations, hoping to spend the day reading or cleaning or otherwise doing something that entailed being alone in some sort of peaceful atmosphere, but it was not to be.
What I did end up doing, however, was unlikely, but pleasant nonetheless. After being bombarded with phone calls from people of varying degrees of priority ranging from my relatives in Warwick whom I haven't spoken to in years suddenly deciding that it was imperative if I didn't spend the holidays with them (as though skipping out this year, after not hearing a peep out of them for the last four years of my life was somehow grossly inappropriate) to Darlene next door wondering if I wished to join them in dinner and alcohol and Rock Band, I actually opted to spend a majority of my Christmas festivities with a customer from work.
Concetta is this extremely sweet ex-schoolteacher who has been a regular customer of mine for the past couple of years. She always invites me to her house, which is quite close to my own, for Christmas dinner with her husband and daughter, whom I also know from the same instances. I never actually take her up on the offer, even though she goes out of her way to get me an iTunes gift card every year (which I can't use, but it certainly is the thought that counts) and utterly insists that I join her and her family for Christmas dinner. I suppose the reason I never actually participate is just general nervousness of being in the home of someone who is, in practicality, a complete stranger (how much of someone can you really know by serving them cheese a couple of times a week for a few years?) and in spite of her and her husband's extremely warm and somewhat hippie-esque disposition, I still feel as though I'd be intruding on something I have no business being part of. But this year, I decided to join Concetta and her family for a couple of glasses of wine and hors d'oeuvres (including the best homemade curry that I, for one, have ever had.) Though I was somewhat nervous going into the entire ordeal, I do have to say that the visit was so pleasant, I almost regretted leaving. Yes, the wine helped.
After a good homemade meal at Darlene's that included a copious amount of stuffing and even more copious amount of Rock Band (the only ones I could sing on key were the Siouxsie ones, and despite my confidence, the R.E.M. one was absolutely horrendous), I was finally able to get home and be in that solitude that I had coveted all day, only to go to bed shortly after - holiday scheduling at Venda Ravioli lasts until New Year's, and I am not looking forward to this week.
I have yet to finish sorting out my thoughts on 2008, and I suppose I will soon. Until then, you should hope to hear from me before the New Year.
Not that mine wasn't nice, because it was. I had planned to spend my first day off in three weeks lounging around doing nothing and hoping to catch up on some sleep that I had neglected over the past few weeks. I had no real plans and certainly made sure that I had no obligations, hoping to spend the day reading or cleaning or otherwise doing something that entailed being alone in some sort of peaceful atmosphere, but it was not to be.
What I did end up doing, however, was unlikely, but pleasant nonetheless. After being bombarded with phone calls from people of varying degrees of priority ranging from my relatives in Warwick whom I haven't spoken to in years suddenly deciding that it was imperative if I didn't spend the holidays with them (as though skipping out this year, after not hearing a peep out of them for the last four years of my life was somehow grossly inappropriate) to Darlene next door wondering if I wished to join them in dinner and alcohol and Rock Band, I actually opted to spend a majority of my Christmas festivities with a customer from work.
Concetta is this extremely sweet ex-schoolteacher who has been a regular customer of mine for the past couple of years. She always invites me to her house, which is quite close to my own, for Christmas dinner with her husband and daughter, whom I also know from the same instances. I never actually take her up on the offer, even though she goes out of her way to get me an iTunes gift card every year (which I can't use, but it certainly is the thought that counts) and utterly insists that I join her and her family for Christmas dinner. I suppose the reason I never actually participate is just general nervousness of being in the home of someone who is, in practicality, a complete stranger (how much of someone can you really know by serving them cheese a couple of times a week for a few years?) and in spite of her and her husband's extremely warm and somewhat hippie-esque disposition, I still feel as though I'd be intruding on something I have no business being part of. But this year, I decided to join Concetta and her family for a couple of glasses of wine and hors d'oeuvres (including the best homemade curry that I, for one, have ever had.) Though I was somewhat nervous going into the entire ordeal, I do have to say that the visit was so pleasant, I almost regretted leaving. Yes, the wine helped.
After a good homemade meal at Darlene's that included a copious amount of stuffing and even more copious amount of Rock Band (the only ones I could sing on key were the Siouxsie ones, and despite my confidence, the R.E.M. one was absolutely horrendous), I was finally able to get home and be in that solitude that I had coveted all day, only to go to bed shortly after - holiday scheduling at Venda Ravioli lasts until New Year's, and I am not looking forward to this week.
I have yet to finish sorting out my thoughts on 2008, and I suppose I will soon. Until then, you should hope to hear from me before the New Year.