Dear 2010,

You have been a shithead.

You have caused me more stress, more anxiety, more heartache and more depression than I have ever known. You have caused the end of friendships, familial battles and enough tears to fill a lake. You have caused me to question myself, my abilities and my sense of belonging.

And just when it seems I should write you off as The Worst Year of My Life, I must also remember that you gave me my wedding, and thus my husband, which was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me.



Ps. Please tell your sister, 2011, to be nice to me. I literally don’t think I could withstand another one like you.

So, this is Christmas. Almost. It’s actually Festivus, which I learned the meaning of today. One of my favorite little elements of this made-up holiday is the idea of a Festivus Miracle, which is basically the labeling of easily-explainable events as Festivus Miracles.

Here are my miracles:
1) All four walls in our master bedroom are now blue!
2) Our bed is being delivered in about an hour!
3) We found an envelope of wedding gifts – cash, which we forgot about and a huge Target gift card, which we thought we lost!

So, anyway. My parents will be here in the wee hours of the morning. They’re planning on driving straight through the night – good luck to them. This will be my eighth Christmas in North Carolina. It’ll be my parents’ first. What does that tell you? COUGH that-they-never-come-to-see-me COUGH. Although looking forward to their visit, cleaning the house in time for their arrival has been stressful. I’ve been dealing with TWO jobs and a cold/sinus thing that doesn’t seem to want to leave me alone. So when I’m home, rather than clean, I vegetate.

But I’m really happy they’re coming.

So, my parents will be here. I have a job I genuinely enjoy. I have a wonderful dog. And I have a husband I’m crazy about. Regardless of what Santa leaves for me, this is going to be a great Christmas.

I’m listening to Crossfire, which I haven’t had an opportunity to do in a while. Although I bought the song, I haven’t transferred it to a CD yet and I’m in my car much more than I’m on my computer these days. I should clarify: I’m in the car much more than I’m on my personal desktop computer. I’m always on the computer at work and I’ve always got the iPad close by. As a result, my big old beast of a computer rarely gets turned on.

So, I’m going to listen to Crossfire over and over and over again while I upload and download pictures. I put the whole CD on my Christmas wish list, so maybe Santa will bring it for me. But according to Allan – my Santa – everything he got me can fit into a shoe box. HUH?!

We have a lot to do this weekend. A LOT. It’s primarily cleaning and painting. Painting wouldn’t be as big a deal if we didn’t have 13 foot ceilings in our master bedroom. Problem is, we don’t have a ladder that can get us up that high. D’oh! And we need to have it done ASAP because – and this here’s a minor Christmas miracle, folks – our bed will be here on Wednesday!!! So rather than risk getting splotches of blue paint on our beautiful new bed, we’re aiming to get everything painted before its arrival. Wish us luck, we need it.

So, this made me sad.  It might not make you sad because you probably don’t know my dog.  But if you did, it would make you sad, too.
Allan took Murphy to daycare yesterday morning, and when Murphy recognized where he was going, he cried.  My poor little baby dog was so upset at the thought of once again spending the day without his family at his house, he cried.  And it breaks my heart.
I have no idea what to do for the little guy, though.  We send him to daycare so that he has ‘people’ to play with and to break up the monotony of his week.  (It also gives him a crap load of exercise, which is especially helpful when you don’t feel like walking him when you get home from work because it’s dark and BELOW FREEZING.)  But there’s nothing I can do to make up for the fact that for a year he had company all day every day, and now he’s by himself.  And it’s torturing me.    
My God.  If I feel this guilty about my dog’s emotional distress, how on earth am I going to have a child?
You may have noticed the BELOW FREEZING thing.  Um, yeah.  It’s really effing cold down here.  All of last week was frigid, all of this week is frigid, and all of next week – as far as they’ll predict – is supposed to be frigid, too.  It’s so bad that when the temperatures climb up over the freezing threshold – even if only by a degree or two – it feels balmy.  Bust out the shorts, hombres!  It’s 37 today!
WTF, Mother Nature?  Do you not know that this is the SOUTH? 
We got our Christmas package from Gregory and Elissa yesterday and I basically peeked at all of my gifts.  And at Allan’s.  Allan is SO good about not sneaking peeks at presents and I really don’t know how he does it.  When I’m busting at the seams to tell him what I got him for his birthday, Christmas, Easter – whatever! – he genuinely doesn’t want to know.  He’s perfectly content to wait until the occasion arrives to find out what he’s getting.  I’m the total opposite.  And not only do I want to know what I got, I also want to tell YOU what I GOT YOU.  I have no self-control.
Uummm, what else is going on?  I already told you about Murphy and my broken heart.  I told you about the awfully cold weather we’re having down here in Dixie.  Yep.  I think that just about wraps everything up!