(Fruitcake: The ultimate Christmas deception. Looks good. Tastes like s***.)
Maybe you haven’t heard, but tomorrow is Christmas. The day when high expectations are smashed against the fiscal cliff. The day when children cry because they didn’t get the RIGHT Barbie doll or video game. (Greedy bastards.)
We dash through the month, doing our shopping, busting our budgets, eating our weight in fudge and toffee, all in preparation for this ONE day of cheer and goodwill. Messed up if you ask me. (But nobody asks me.)
Here are the reasons I’m one fruitcake away from a Christmas meltdown:
- I think my shopping is done, only to realize (on Christmas Eve), that I forgot my a) co-workers, b) neighbors, c) pets, d) relatives I haven’t seen in years but will be seeing tomorrow. I start sobbing in my egg nog.
(Shopping on Christmas Eve is the worst.)
- I worry that everyone will think I’m cheap (which I am) and get me crap next year.
- I’m so sick of eating chocolate (and that NEVER happens) that if I stuff ONE MORE Hershey’s kiss into my face, my teeth will fall out. And I know I still have to get through tomorrow’s choco-fest.
(Pleeeaaassee. Somebody stop me. . . )
- If I hear one more version of “Deck the Halls”, I’m going to start decking people.
- I remember I didn’t send ONE Christmas card. I bought a box of cards last January on clearance, and they’re still sitting (unopened) with my Christmas supplies.
- I discover (on Christmas eve around 11 p.m.) I don’t have enough tape to wrap any more presents. My options are a) use duct tape, b) use the stapler or c) say Santa ran out of paper somewhere over France.
- Knowing that on Dec. 26, I’ll vow to start Christmas shopping in January–and knowing that I never will.
If possible, have a Merry Christmas.