So at this point there are 11 days left until Christmas, only 10 more shopping days, and I am starting to think that maybe I am screwed, because my "To-Do" list is getting longer and longer every day, and at this point I think I've come back around again to leftover holiday tasks from 2008 that didn't get completed. I just can't tell any more -- it's all so hectic and stressful and at 8:00 in the morning I kind of already need a good stiff drink, and maybe an Ativan.
I manage to freak myself out every year, to the point where now it's kind of a running gag in my house. When I get home from work I half expect G to ask me, "So what did you forget to do today?" I complained about this last year, and I'll probably complain about it next year, too (but I am not made of magic so I can't link to a future post that hasn't been written yet). "Bitching about Christmas chores" is one of the Universal Constancies, right up there with "The Princess Bride will always be funny" and "Perkin'ses are always the same everywhere."
It's just -- I look at this list and I kind of want to run away and join the circus. The bulk of my shopping is done, in the sense of "the most expensive presents," but I still have about eleventy thousand little piddling gifts to get, and larger stuff I put off until my next paycheck tomorrow. Things for cousins and friends' kids and co-workers, and also G's "big" gift, and most of the gifts for my mother-in-law. Stocking stuffers for one of my sisters and her husband. The cards need to be finished. And I haven't even had time to think about whether I'm going to bake and make candy or not.
Yeah, it's going about this well.