I should have known

I don't know how much time I've got, but I'm sure it's not enough. So this is gonna ramble. Deal.

A few weeks ago, I said again what I've said numerous times in the past: that I would gladly give up a third of my life if I could just take it off of the end of every year. I even adopted an underpriveleged kid in the hopes that I wouldn't hate Christmas quite so much, but there's no use. I really, truly, deeply despise this time of year. Please, God, don't ever make me live through another Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's.

My company closes every year between Christmas and New Year's Day. This year that's the 23rd through the 2nd. What they don't tell you when you get hired is that you're required to use your vacation time to pay for this. So that paltry two weeks they gave you when you came to work there? Four of those ten days will be used at their discretion to cover days that they want to close even though you don't want to close and don't mind being at work. And no, you can't take the time off unpaid.

Yes, I knew I was getting into this when I went there. Yes, I resent it enough that I seriously thought about calling my old contract shop and asking if they have any contracts available for somebody like me. I left on good terms, and I'm sure they'd love to have me back. Except my employer is being sold this spring to a company whose benefits are allegedly better. I'll give them a few more months before I start looking again.

That's bitch point #1.

So I've got 11 days off and abso-fucking-lutely NOTHING to do, because EVERYBODY that I know is at work this week. I figured I would recaulk my shower and re-paste the edges of the wallpaper that is coming loose in the bathroom. And then came the honey-do list.

• Cancel Vonage.
  
• Call Verizon and ask if they have any bundles that include VOIP and DirecTV, because we saw the word "DirecTV" on their website, and since we're already a subscriber, maybe we can save some money. And maybe not have to give up our phone number.
  
• Sign up with AT&T anyway*, even though it means giving up the home phone number.
  
• Call AmEx and report my credit card stolen because that's the only way we've found to cancel Vonage service**.
  
• Drive to the Gwinnett county tax assessor's office to find out if there's a sewer line directly behind the commercial building we own, because we'd like to add on to the back if possible. That means going from the tax assessor's office to the transportation office to permits (in a different building) to planning and development to stormwater management to public utilities central office (in another building). Yes there's a sewer line there. No, we can't build across it.
  

Did I say I had nothing to do?

Then last night we went to allegedly the last Christmas party of the year, for my partner's professional guild. I say allegedly, because I've been hearing for three weeks that this one tonight is the last Christmas party of the year, only to hear the same thing again the next night. Our big party? Our dinner party? The cosmo party? Our work party? Last one of the year, all of them.

And I was up a pound at my weigh-in last week, and I underestimated how much that would bug me. So when I see my partner cooking like he's feeding the Argonauts, and I keep reminding him that we're going to have tons of leftovers and we don't need three pumpkin pies, and I can tell that he's depressed too and he's doing this so that maybe he'll enjoy the season... then I shut up and help. Even if it makes me fat.

So last night I went to the "last" Christmas party of the year, and I had a light dinner before I went, because I don't need to stand near the food table and graze. And three -- THREE -- different people argued with me when I said, "thank-you-but-I-really-don't-want-any-food/wine/calories." Oh, but it's Christmas! they said.

Folks, when a person smiles and sweetly says, "no thank you," it's because they're trying not to scream I SAID NO GOD DAMMIT ARE YOU DENSE!?!?!?! Trust me on that.

Just one more thing to resent.

And, oh yeah: on the way out of the party, a very sweet lady handed me a gift for me and hubby. A plate of homemade shortbread.

So hubby tells me he's off to visit his grandmother on Wednesday. And this morning at breakfast, he asks if I want to go with him, since I don't have anything else to do.

Do I want to go? No, I don't. I really, really don't. I'm not seeing any of my family this Christmas (which is just fine with me; it's an over-rated holiday and any special visits this time of year seem forced, because visiting is what you're supposed to do). And never mind that my grandmother is in a nursing home and has been for 5 years now, and he's only been with me once to visit her. And I really don't fault him for that, because nursing homes are awful places and I wouldn't ask my dog to go with me to visit her there. (And I don't fault the workers in these places; you people are saints.) And I'm seriously, honestly glad that he went with me once. And I know that my great-grandmother spent her last years in a nursing home, and my grandmother is doing the same thing. And even though my mother says she understands and that she doesn't want us to feel burdened if we ever have to do the same thing to her... it bugs me. I don't want my grandmother there. I don't want my mother there. And I don't want to be there ever again, in the bed or out of it.

For the record, I don't get to visit my grandmother often, since I live several hours away. I do make it a point to send her a letter as often as I can, along with pictures if I have them. At least that way she knows that I'm thinking of her, and she can share any news or stories I send with her other visitors.

After several minutes of pondering all of this, hubby said I didn't have to go if I had something else to do. I asked if he would be disappointed if I didn't go... and he paused several seconds before answering. That's my answer, I guess.

So today, I'm off to visit a woman who has always been cordial to me, but isn't my family. And I'm going to support my partner, who's going (I think) because he feels like he needs to. And we're going to spend 5 hours in the car. And we're going to hear how awful it is that we didn't visit/call on Christmas. And she's going to load us down with more calories in the form of Chex mix***. And we're going to hear about all the wonderful things the rest of the family did even though the only thing they really did was not-move-away.

And oh yeah. I've learned not to ask his grandmother if she's ever going to come visit us, because I'm tired of her turning away from us and staring at the wall until one of us changes the subject. Fine. You want to pretend that the reason you're not visiting us is because of the traffic, even though you drive to Atlanta to visit cousins and siblings? Go right ahead. You don't owe me anything, and I don't expect it. And I know you think I'm the pervert who stole your grandson and made him "one of them there hom'sexuals"... even though there are far fucking bigger skeletons on the other side of the family****. You're breaking your grandson's heart, and I resent you for that. Because he loves you, and he tries. And he doesn't deserve to be treated that way.

And yeah. That's pretty much it.

So he went in to work for a little while this morning, and before he gets back, I've got to put on shoes and feed the dogs and strap on a smile and get ready for a drive up into the hills to visit his grandmother. Because that's what Christmas means to me.

*Why are we sticking with a VOIP provider? Because there's a physical problem with the land lines in our neighborhood, and you can't hear the person you're calling over the background noise on the line. Seriously, it's louder than the dial tone.
**Yeah, no I'm not kidding. We've been trying to cancel since this summer. They're significantly harder to ditch than cancer. Even harder than AOL.
***Really, I'm genuinely honored that people spend their time to make us gifts like these. Most of them are home-made, and I really appreciate the effort. But dear God, please don't make me smile and accept another gift of food.
****Shouldn'a typed that. Oh well.