Thankful for "high-class problems."

Wow, what a crazy month this has been! I'd like to thank the Snow Gods for keeping the storms away from New England so far--I don't ever remember a dryer December--but it's definitely not beginning to look a lot like Christmas up in here!  We wouldn't say no to a nice big snow storm at the end of this week, mkay?  Thaaaanks.

Today is the annual holiday potluck lunch and Yankee Swap at my crap job. You know, the day when I have to grin and pretend to like my coworkers, pretend to like their crappy cooking, pretend to like the ceramic snowman spoon rest or whatever-the-fuck I'll pull in the swap, pretend to be interested in their annoying, self-gratifying stories, and most importantly, pretend that my job doesn't make me want to shoot myself in the face every fucking day.

That's a lot of pretending, and I'm exhausted already.

I'd much rather be home cuddling with the new puppy we got this weekend!

Wouldn't you?  Look how cute!


I'm comforting myself with the knowledge that it's a 2-day work week for me, so by Wednesday morning I'll be able to finally clean my house and START my holiday drinking wrapping!  Wednesday cannot come soon enough.

Until then, I'm doing my best to shut off the nagging voices in my head (What - you don't hear them?) and be thankful for my "high-class problems."  No more feeling sorry for myself, no more worrying about what everyone else thinks of me.  No more.  Time to grow up and be more appreciative, goddamn it.

I've got a job, a home, and a family that loves me.  There will be presents under the tree on Saturday morning and we always have food on our table and a safe place to rest our heads each night.  I have friends to call when I'm sad and a hilarious and smart sister who has known me longer than I've known myself, and still likes me!  I have a brain in my head and a (relatively) clean bill of health.  It truly is a wonderful life, and I'm so grateful for it.

I'm really hoping that 2011 is a fabulous year for us all.

And now, so you won't all think I've gone entirely soft and mushy, here's a message from our friends at IKEA about cleaning up your toys.  As someone who once experienced a moment of abject humiliation when my two-year-old wandered into the kitchen holding a familiar vibrating object, I can relate.




I'm not sure what the week will bring - maybe I'll blog, maybe I won't, so just in case, I'll say this:

Happy Holidays to all of my beautiful, bouncing BOOBHs! You're spectacular and La Bev loves you.