Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Last One Standing

Sometimes I think I am meant to be living alone in the wilderness. If the world ended today and I was the last person left on Earth, that would probably be okay with me. I am the most antisocial person in the world. How in the world I have made it this far in a civilized society is besides me.

Case in point: Thanksgiving. I don't like holidays. I don't like holidays because inevitably they mean someone, usually more than one person, is coming to my house OR I must travel across the country and smile nicely at a barrage of people I barely know who always want to hug my neck. When people come to my house, like this week, I turn into a different person and my stress level shoots through the roof. I try to be a good hostess and I want to please my guests, but for crying out loud, I get so sick of the passive aggressive crap that people pull.

For example, I will ask someone if they want me to make them breakfast. I offer them a choice of pancakes and sausage or eggs and toast. They answer, "What are you going to have?" That's not what I asked now, is it? I asked what they wanted. Or I will ask what if they want to go for a walk on the beach and they will answer, "I don't care, what do you want to do?" THAT'S NOT WHAT I ASKED! I get so fed up with that. If we were doing what I wanted, everyone would just eat cereal and E would be outside playing with her friends while I got to finish my very weird book by Lolita Files.

I'm really grumpy today. My parents finally left after spending two days here. They live an hour away, why do they have to spend two days here? Hubby is at church working and I am just really tired with no end to the mommy-dom requirements in sight. And Monday starts Advent. Lovely Advent. The time of year when I have to really kick it in gear and pretend to be a good pastor's wife; baking for the shut-ins, preparing the children's Christmas pageant, singing in the Christmas Cantata, GOING TO THE REQUIRED CHRISTMAS PARTY FOR PASTORS AND THEIR SPOUSES! God help me. The first pastor to approach me at the party and ask "Is this seat SAVED?" is going to get more than he bargained for. I'll show him saved.

Mrrble, mubble, meh.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My sympathies.