Bah. Humbug.

Traditionally Christmas is an exciting, even joyous time for me. Historically Christmas meant visiting relatives, lots of swimming, lots of video games, ice blocks, more swimming, and presents. Glorious presents! As I got older and did my time in retail, it became more about work, but extra money. And I did still love it. I loved buying Christmas cards, buying decorations, listening to carols, selecting just the right gift for all of my nearest and dearest. All of it. Loved it. Then over the last few years I began making things as gifts, and Christmas became a time where I could learn new skills, like sewing and making extreme amounts of Truffles in a v small kitchen. You can imagine my joy as I realised people liked the handmade gifts even more. Sure, they were an investment of time, but a worthy investment in the spirit of celebration and giving. 

But Christmas 2009? This Christmas I am so cranky, I cannot even begin to express it in a coherent manner.

If I am completely honest with myself, I should recognise that my mood has been in the toilet for at least a month and a half. The cause? The inevitably soul-destroying process of job hunting. It just goes on and on. Can people not see how truly fabulous I am? Really?? Officially, for the record, job-hunting is much worse than dating. Being rejected by men pales in comparison to being rejected from positions your perfect for based on a cold evaluation of your skills and abilities. So I have been harbouring some unkind, and exceedingly uncharitable thoughts around certain organisations of late. Because when I feel hurt, I turn it into anger. Then I cry. Then I feel angry. And so on and so forth.

So it would seem that this hurt and anger is killing Christmas. And how has this presented itself? Well, I knew I was in trouble last week when I found myself shooting Hate Rays, out of my eyeballs, at any couple that looked even remotely happy. Last Friday I was inches away from issuing a public declaration on Facebook that any person who happened to speak to me of how happy they were in their relationship/job was at serious risk of harm. But I restrained myself, because I felt that these thoughts were predominantly influenced by hormones. And this week, as I welcomed my lady time, I felt better. I felt like my crankypants were gone. Like I could finally get back into the spirit of things. 

And then, THEN! I came down with Tonsillitis. What. The Fuck.

Yesterday, as I dragged myself out of bed at 4 in the afternoon and went to the shops in the quest for some kind of food, I suddenly realised something. The Hate Rays were back. The couples, did they have to hold hands and look so smug? And the carollers? Do they have to wander around the shops singing? They only make people uneasy. And today? Still there. I tried listening to Christmas carols to buoy my spirit, and as I heard the opening lines to "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year" the only thought that went through my head was "Fuck you". I will say however, that some of Hanson's Christmas carols did bring a smile to my lips, proving once again that you can always rely on something you loved when you were 14. 

Yes. Well. As you can see my headspace has not been in the best place for awhile, which I will wholeheartedly use as my excuse for not blogging for a while. I do try not to be a Negative Nancy all of the time. But alas, today I could not hold it in. 

The sooner Christmas comes and I can go on holidays to the Philippines, the better. My batteries are in desperate need of recharging.

One thought on “Bah. Humbug.

  1. Hey ladyface,
    A great big hug from the farm! I have blogged a bookreview for your amusement (and maybe for that link you sent me).
    Will be home tomorrow arvo xxx

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>