Christmas can’t come and go soon enough this year.
I don’t know why I feel this way. Maybe it’s from the lack of funds in the bank, the mounting, bills, the husband that says “Get a Job” Yet I haven’t asked him for a dime. Or it’s the children and the 3 birthdays between the 19th and 23rd of next month that is absolutely going to kill me or send me straight to the Poor House.
Or maybe it’s because every year I say I will be ready and yet I never am.
I want to be baking cookies and decorating my house and putting up my tree and feel Christmasy… but I don’t and I don’t think that doing those things will make me feel that way anyway but still. I want to. Would you call me depressed? I don’t think so. I think the word for me is more melancholy. But still, maybe I should ask for some antidepressants for Christmas instead of the funky sweater at Wal-Mart or the 2 CD’s I want or the undies I badly need.
Maybe that is it. Maybe no one has really asked me what I want. I know that dear hubby will think he knows what I want and go out and get me something I am going to have to use to make it look like I am taking care of the house (except the new Dirt Devil Rechargeable Stick Vac…) Otherwise, if Santa can’t bring me something that makes me feel pretty, then please don’t come next year. I don’t even want Jewelry. Yeah, that would be a first thought in the “feel pretty” description but it isn’t. I don’t really wear jewelry. But I like boots, and books, and sweaters, and slippers and things like that. A new CD, and empty house, a good book and warm bath makes Momma feel Damn Gorgeous.
I don’t know, maybe I feel greedy, maybe I feel like I am worn out and need abreak, or maybe, I would just like someone to ask me what I WANT for a change instead of me doing the asking of everyone else.