Last night my partner and I went out with some good friends for dinner and then dessert at one couple's house. But I was as keyed up as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs! It's been a busy, stressful week, and then I had to rush home, change clothes, pick up one of our friends (who, God love her, talks too much) and then get to the restaurant.
Everyone else seemed able to decide what they wanted except me. The menu and choices completely overwhelmed me, and I found myself just sitting there staring at the menu wishing I were somewhere else. Merry Christmas!
Dinner and dessert was good, but I just never seemed to relax. I kept thinking about the layoffs and salary freeze at my office job. I kept thinking about how to find more freelance writing gigs and how to cut expenses at home. I kept thinking about how I really don't want to deck the halls at all this Christmas. Bah-humbug! My partner, of course, feels otherwise.
I'm willing to meet him halfway, however, so tomorrow we'll put up some decorations and mail Christmas cards. For the last couple of weeks, we've been doing ok, which is great. I was worried that things would spiral downward once we stopped going to counseling. Counseling was a big help, but we just couldn't afford it anymore.
Money, schmoney. Don't ever get seriously ill because it will suck up all the resources you have!
And adding to the stress, I found myself caught in the middle of an argument between one of my brothers and my father. I saw my father over Thanksgiving, and he bought my $6.95 barbecue dinner when we went out to eat. I've told him little about my financial troubles because I prefer to handle my own money woes--and he would hold it over my head if I borrowed money from him. So my brother apparently asked for a lot of money recently, and my dad said something about how he was helping me out and didn't have enough to spread around. But he hasn't given me anything but that dang barbecue dinner! So either he was just lying to my brother (which i don't like anyway) or he actually thinks $6.95 amounts to a federal bailout package (which he actually might). And if I try to find out what the real truth is, it will just cause more drama. So, fuck it.
I'm ready for a drink and a long nap!
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