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Monday, November 28, 2005

IN THE HOLIDAY POO 

Jiminy Crapmas.

Everyone's broke this year and the impending holiday b.s. ain't helping.

NOT that we are getting anyone gifts this time. No frickin' way, Hose B. We'll be lucky if we get any g.d. food. Maybe some stale candy canes. And booze. Yes, we'll be needing the booze.

I barely even managed to snag a plane ticket home...the only reason I even did that was because the prices will only become more and more obscene, and then I would really not be able to get one, so I took the plunge waist-deep into a vat of Christmas poo pie and emerged with one partially soiled ticket with a return flight on Christmas Day.

Sweet.

So now I'm semi-happy, my employer is semi-unhappy (but will deal with it), my mom is semi-happy, and Cranky, who's been out of work, is semi-happy because now I can only ruin half his Christmas. My neighbor is semi-unhappy because I can only watch her cat part of the time and cannot take her to the airport. My landlord has got to be pissed because my last rent check bounced for some unknown reason (and I didn't find out until last night due to holiday weekend) but I hope they understand (I don't) and do not try to push the new check I gave them through together with next month's rent or I will be scrooged up the a**. My bank is happy because I have direct deposit and they can charge me an exorbitant fee and then return the check, anyway. My gas meter reader is happy because I suspect he is charging me for all the therms from the water heater which serves my entire building. I am not happy about this, especially since the gas rates have gone up 70%, and am actually thinking of having the gas turned off to retaliate but am not sure if this means I would have no hot water. Cranky is not happy because now he has to go down in my scary, spider-infested basement with a flashlight to look for my thermostat.

My dad is happy as long as he doesn't have to do anything for me or see me or acknowledge that I exist. My grandparents will all at least pretend to be happy to see me except maybe Grandpa Hollis, because he doesn't actually remember who I am and sometimes calls me Mary. But then he also thinks that dinnertime is at 4 a.m. and wants a beer and that it's perfectly acceptable to appear outside in public in your underwear as long as you always have your hat on.

My dentist is not happy because I will now be unable to afford the work I need done before my benefits run out for the year, but I'm sure they'll be happy when the new year comes and I need a root canal. My cats are unhappy because now they will be with a sitter for the holiday and he's not as comfy as me (they think I am their own personal waterbed and launching pad.) My houseplants will also be pretty pissed.

I don't know how you people with actual nuclear families even deal with this sh*t. Talk about spreading yourself too thin. I can't even be accountable to plant life.

You can't make everybody happy, people.
Not unless they get to charge you fees and an interest rate.

At least the electric company isn't asking me for a ride to the airport.

IN THE HOLIDAY POO
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