Let nothing you dismay. Except maybe that.

Christmas shopping? Check.

Christmas cards? Check.

Mail-order presents mail-ordered? Check. Only, there was a glitch in which the website I was ordering several gifts from and my order… disappeared. They emailed me to say they’d got my card details, but not the details of the things I’d ordered, sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry etc. So there was language, bad, fruity, and I re-entered the order, and now the presents won’t get there for Christmas Eve AAAAAAAARGH rage. Anyway. I tried.

Last day of work before the holidays? Check. Managed to crowbar the last few students out of the building only half-an-hour after closing-time, which must be some kind of record. ‘Go home!’ – ‘But we need to finish this!’ – ‘No, you do not. It’s Christmas. Or Hanukkah. Or whatever. Go the fuck home.’ – ‘But you’re not open tomorrow!’ – ‘Quite right. Being human, we too would like a holiday. Thank you for trying. Please leave.’

Wrapping? Well, we have wrapping paper. We have presents. The two are nowhere near each other as yet.

Plan B for when May’s exploding uterus and her washing-up-bowl of vomity doom crash the family dinner party planned on Boxing Day and ruin it for everyone? Not sorted at all. H has adopted a ‘we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it!’ attitude which is making me want to poke him viciously in the kidney with a spoon. Even if, by grace of God etc., I am not throwing up, I will not be in a fit state to join the table, and I will not neither be in a fit state to spend the next few days sleeping on a fold-out sofa-bed in the living-room, which is put away every morning, so I can spend the days, well, I don’t know, actually. How do you suffer acutely and bleed copiously in someone else’s very small house when said house is stuffed to the gunwales with friends-and-relations and, and, get this, there is no sink in the lavatory? So you have to open the door, walk out into the hall, and open another door to go into the bathroom to wash hands. Before you all look at me quizzically and say ‘well?’, remember, I will a) be bleeding like a slaughtered bull at a Mithraic initiation, and b) be putting things up my bottom. I want to wash my hands before I touch doorhandles and certainly before I wonder about the house looking like Sweeney Todd in front of a mixed-biscuit assortment of teenagers, prudish aunts, and strange men, thank you.

Christmas spirit? We’re out of tonic water.

Festive cheer? Oh, shut up.


20 responses to “Let nothing you dismay. Except maybe that.

  • BigP's Heather

    Definitely stock up on flushable wipes before you go!! Or, take a baggie in there with you for the wipes and trash to go in before you leave the loo.
    Good luck.

  • MFA Mama

    Oh dear.

    That said, the last two sentences of this post completed me.

    Also…I know it’s probably an unpopular idea with H, but given the reality of the situation, isn’t it perhaps best that May catch “stomach flu” the very last moment before leaving for this holiday massacre and either a) nobly send H out of contagion’s way and into his family’s loving arms or b) require H’s nursing care, so sorry? I just do not see any way that this can be other than horrifically uncomfortable in every way possible for you, which means an alternate plan is in order. Easier said, etc. but STILL.

    • May

      We’re going, I think, with your plan. H will make apologetic last minute phone call. What we haven’t decided is, whether he will leave me in heap on own livingroom floor and go see the ‘Rents, or whether he too will remain here to mop my forehead.

  • a

    I hope the wrapping elves visit. As for anything else, I wish I had ideas for you. Copious amounts of hand sanitizer? H standing by to open doors for you? How well does alcohol mix with those drugs? Surely you can imbibe enough of that for it to get in your bloodstream before you start vomiting?

    Merry Christmas (*ducks head*)

    • May

      I have dressed H in green tunic and tinsel hat, and made him do most of the wrapping.

      Alcohol+tramadol+diclofenac+ThePukstravaganza – OH. MY. GOD. HELL. NO. I’m saving it for New Year’s Eve, which I am totally planning on spending ripped to the tits by 8pm. I DESERVE it.

  • Womb For Improvement

    Wet wipes.

    Wishing you a lovely, pain-free Christmas, with exciting things in the New Year.

    Who needs tonic anyway, go neat.

  • QoB

    I nth the makeup wipes opinion. Also perhaps a backup hotel close by to retreat to?

  • Korechronicles

    Nothing to add to the previous suggestions and sound eminently sensible. BUT…tough gig ahead no matter which way you cut it.

    Hope the universe surprises you and it all goes beautifully. Christmas is the season for miracles, is it not?

    Well, that’s my Christmas wish for you anyway. Love and magic.

  • Korechronicles

    Christmas drinkies have affected my ability to construct a grammatical sentence. You get the gist, I’m sure.

  • Betty M

    Angostura bitters are the answer to tonic sans spirits. Feels like a proper drink. Isn’t one. Looks pink and festive. Hope the festivities aren’t thwarted for you. Onwards to a 2012 full of good things.

  • valeryvalentina

    I’m in denial about any festivities. ‘t is just an inconveniently long weekend and needs to be survived. Too much family already…. (and not enough chocolate) But I’ll remember that I’m not the one who is bleeding on top of it all.

    Will be lighting candles for your little one(s) too.

    • May

      Yeah, just a tiresome long weekend, with a lot of money spent on it. *sigh*. Many hugs, best wishes for surviving the family>chocolate mismatch.

  • katie

    Picture of elf costume. Stat.

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