I could just go and hide in a cupboard with a bucket over my head and have a little scream...... A Festive Cheer with a difference. Instead, I shall have myself a little blog-moan.
I was up too early today, underslept and a bit harassed by my own unpreparedness and domestic disorder.
This morning's gift from Flossie was less copious and less noxious than before, but it didn't make for a pleasant start to the day.
I have given Flossie her tablets, and been practically knocked out by her bad breath in the process, but despite unpleasantness at either end, she seems in fine spirits, and rather enjoying the regular small applications of boiled white rice and chicken. But tomorrow I shall talk to the vet, as I'm beginning to feel anxious about her.
I have 6 people coming round tonight - the same 6* who come round every month for waxing, tweezing, pedicures, manicures, gossip and a good catch up with old friends. Tonight is our Chinese Takeaway Christmas Ritual night. I could place the order by memory, year on year - everyone orders exactly what they had last year, and we all complain that we've ordered too much, eaten too much, and look at all that leftover rice! So it gets packed up for someone's thrifty lunch tomorrow.
My mantelpiece isn't finished - this is scandalous, as it is always finished, with fresh holly and ivy, for this evening together, and this year I have failed miserably.... where did the time go?
The shower room is nowhere near finished either; who knows where the missing toilet is now? The supplier has closed till the 29th.
It has taken me several attempts and an embarrassing amount of time to clear the kitchen table of all the wrapping stuff; the kitchen table is essential if we are to devour all that Chinese food out of reach of cats and dogs. Plastic bags full of supposedly cleared up 'stuff' are hidden behind doors. I don't know where to place all the nicely wrapped Christmas parcels, where Scooter won't confettify them, nor can I leave chocolates or nuts set out for guests within reach of a certain dog.
Sometimes I have a sense of being bullied and oppressed by my animals.
So I gave myself a little break today: I walked over the bridge and through the park to feed a friend's cat - and I didn't take the dogs! I couldn't face the strain of keeping Miss Scavenger away from all the garbage and bird food, or of exhorting Miss Reluctant to keep up and stop looking so bloody martyred. And that half hour felt like freedom....
The Lovely Son should have arrived this afternoon, but no East Coast trains are running. He will try again tomorrow, but I can't say I feel hopeful. He rings regularly, and because he lives in a basement flat, he loses the signal frequently, and I spend much of our call saying "What?" till he gets fed up and rings off. His housemate is there with him, instead of in Rio; all is chaos for would-be travellers.
Time to stop whining and get back to work. I have a little tic in my left eye. If anyone winks back at me, I shall punch them. Father Christmas, you have been warned.
*Edit: 5 people. I'm the 6th. I can't even count any more...