Venting post ahead. Please do not read if you actually enjoy xmas.

Here we go...

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How could something that is supposed to be so... I dunno... fuckin' JOYFUL, turn in to something so goddamn MEH?

I was fine up until about 4 yesterday. I was having a quiet drink with some new work mates, and rang hubby to pick me up. Called sister on the way home and somehow got upset at her cos she was about to wear out my wedding high heels on a dirnking expidition. I lent them to her about 4 months ago, but I only ever get anything back if I hunt it down.

so What does she say to me? "Oh you're just drunk, is this cos (other sister) and I didn't invite you out tonight or something?"

Needless to say, I got rather upset at that. It doesn't help that this month I've been trying a new, different type of med for my anxiety and I'd only decided two days ago to stop them cold turkey and go back to the old ones.

Ergo, uncontrollable crying fit. That ends with me kicking my shoes off in frustration in the loungeroom... and one of them smashing a wall lamp to smithereens.

Then we tried to go shopping for Xmas food. Tried, being the operative word. There was absolutely NOTHING left on any shelves. I'd promised a Caesar salad and cold chicken for this morning, and still, I am sans bloody chicken.

I rang mum at 10, who was all harrassed herself cos she'd had 4 phone calls from various family, and promptly burst into tears. All we'd wanted to do this year was pay for lunch somewhere and be waited on hand and foot.

However, my stinking step sisters, one of whom has two kids and lives with a criminal, said that 'not everyone could afford lunch'. Meaning them. So the rest of my mum's extended family, who I really like spending time with, are at the Hilton while we'll be at a feckin picnic in the park with people who I don't even really like and toddlers who are loud and demanding. The only reason we're even going is to make my mum happy.

The extended family then told mum their all coming back to her place after so we can all catch up. Which is nice, but of course that means more work and expense for my mum, when they've been waited on hand and foot all day (jealous much). It's not like they've had cancer medical bills all year... and my poor mum's just exhausted :(.

Happy fucking humbug everyone. I still don't have a bloody chicken.

Cue another crying fit.