These rats really wear me out. During the showdown with Thom on Saturday, I needed to nap. I remain enervated.

While the kids were at school I went to Big Lots to pick up Xmas decorations I don’t feel like buying. The kids want some semblance of Christmas, and Geoffrey (our summer rat) ruined half of our decorations, so I had to restock the Xmas stash. I bought such cheap crap. I don’t care anymore. The kids won’t care. Standing on line, I felt really hot. In the car, I thought I might vomit. Then I thought I might cry.

I came home and tried to sleep by streaming a boring tv show. I ended up with an endless loop of Martha Stewart Christmas decorating episodes on Hulu. I’d fall asleep and awake to some outlandish craft, such as weaving evergreen branches onto a six-foot sheet of wire, then draping it around the columns on her porch, then draping lights over that. Martha must be joking. When we got to the lady pulling apart pine cones to use each individual piece as roof shingles on tiny houses, I knew this couldn’t be true. I was riveted.

Martha is so over the top that I am coming to terms with Christmas. I almost want to invite someone over so I can make that batch of eggnog. So many eggs, so much booze. Just pour it all in.


2 thoughts on “Setback

  1. Invite me over if you make the eggnog. It might make my one and only Christmas decoration look better—it’s a petrified gingerbread house from last year. Your kids will love whatever you put up.

  2. A petrified gingerbread house seems so fitting for this widowed Christmas. Things may look fine, but they’re rock hard, once you take a nibble.

    I wish I could invite a bunch of widows I’ve “met” and serve them a vat of Martha Stewart’s eggnog. We wouldn’t grimace at each other. We wouldn’t say the wrong thing. Or, if someone did say the wrong thing, we could all laugh raucously.

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