Currently semi-horizontal in bed, praying for the stabbing to stop. I’m one of the ‘lucky’ women in my family who gets the odd day where, for no apparent reason, we feel like we’ve eaten a cutlery drawer load of knives and washed them down with a tall glass of drawing pins. The remedy is to writhe around like a beached sea creature and loudly announce your imminent death to all and sundry until it goes away…and then ask what we’re having for dinner.
Much as I’m sure you came here to hear tales of my digestive woes, I think I’ll write something a bit more warm and fuzzy, and a bit less yucky and stabby – it’s nearly Christmas, after all; A time for getting drunk with your family and wetting yourself with laughter while your Nan reluctantly plays (and slays at) Cards Against Humanity. It’s also a time for gratitude. So here’s some stuff I’m grateful for:
I’m too highly strung for actual relaxation, so my occasional bouts of gastric fuckery allow me a guilt-free opportunity to sit in bed during daylight hours, binge watching sitcoms with a slack jaw and no bra on. I really hope the government isn’t watching us through our screens, because whoever got the job of watching me today was in for a treat.
As I write this, both of my sisters and their partners are stationed down the road at my family home in readiness for Christmas celebrations, which fills me with all the happy feelings. On Boxing day (I’m spending Christmas day at t’other half’s parents’ house this year), we will bicker about our not-always meshing opinions, drunkenly accuse each other of being the most drunk, and bond over the fact that our granddad has told us all to “fuck off out of my kitchen” at least once each within the last half an hour. Genuinely cannot wait!
Friends are the family you choose to annoy intermittently with your presence, and the holiday season gives me a great excuse to make mine eat food and drink things in my company. I know your friends are probably pretty cool and all that, but mine are better. It’s just a fact.
One sweet unicorn sent me a paperback copy of Stephen King’s On Writing yesterday, which I LOVE but have never owned in a physical format (I have the eBook and audio book versions) for no reason other than she knew I’d like it.
Another is a self-employed entrepreneur/empower-er of women that has a bajillion and twelve jobs and responsibilities, but still finds the time to pencil in regular “eating sweets and talking lots” sessions for us both throughout the year.
A third keeps in touch by sending me jokes and videos that offend me to my core, but makes up for it by being one of the funniest, most genuine and ridiculous humanoids I know (the ridiculous ones are the best ones). I could go on, but all this sincerity’s repeating on me a bit. Gag
Andy’s super power is being my literal opposite and somehow tolerating it. I am a ceaseless merry-go-round of emotions and neurotic movement.
Picture a beach. Andy is a chill rock pool, just being some rocks in the sun. Not making any noise, not bothering anyone, full of crabs….(heh, sorry. He doesn’t really have crabs), having a lovely time…
And here I come – the wave – hurling myself head first at him with all my being, screaming “AAAAGH, I’M A FUCKING WAVE!!”, and projecting all my insecurities onto him because he’s a rock pool, so I assume that he’s the same as me because all I can see in my panic is myself reflected back. Okay, that’s a shit analogy. Here’s an example conversation that might portray it a bit better:
Me: <<feeling anxious because personality reasons>> Hey, you okay?
Andy: Yeah, fine.
Me: Just fine? What’s wrong? You not feeling great? You don’t seem to be feeling great. Why aren’t you smiling?
Andy: No, I’m fine.
Me: I can tell you’re not.
Andy: <<Happily continues to watch TV>>
Me: You never share anything with me! <<flounces off>>
Half an hour later, after I’ve reverse flounced back into the living room.
Andy: You okay?
Me: Yep, fine.
Me: << Instantly perks up like nothing’s happened >>
Yep, so there we have it. I have lots and lots more to be grateful for, but I have more medicinal sitcoms to watch. It’s good for my health. Plus, I have about nine seasons left of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia to catch up on.
While I’m doing that, tell me what you’re grateful for this Christmas! I’d love to know 🙂