Christmas Eve.

That Stud Muffin I Married is busy making noodles for the Christmas Eve lasagna. But what am I doing? I'm sitting around in bed blogging and drinking tea (trying to caffeinate myself enough to help the Advil get rid of the headache I had this morning.) Not only is this slothful, it could get me into all kinds of trouble. Yesterday, beginning around 10:00 in the morning, members of my family kept showing up unannounced. First my future brother in law, then my eldest sister, then my mother.

Don't people usually call first? I mean, what if we were out buying last minute stocking stuffers? And anyway, hello? When did my family become the Waltons?

Well, they had to deal with me in the giant oversized t-shirt I slept in, with some jeans slung on, and nothing cleaned up, including my teeth. Morning breath a la Poppy. And it serves them right.

Yesterday after all the relatives had gone away, and I had bathed and put on clean clothes and even some makeup, and yes, brushed my teeth, we went out to the place where we were supposed to be able to cut down a Christmas tree. It was closed. Closed! Even though I checked the hours in their yellow page ad. Fuckers!

So then we tried another spot. Nothing doing. So we ended up at Wal*Mart. Where we scored a Balsam Fir for get this--$13.00. Trees were $26, but marked down half-price because it's so close to Christmas.

So then we decorated the tree-quick and dirty, check out the angles on some of those candles--and went out to Warren's for dinner. Two margaritas and a plate of fried clams and things were really starting to look up.

Until this morning when my husband let me sleep late. I mean, look at the time stamp. And I have last minute uber-frazzling shite to do, plus my in-laws are showing up who knows when, and I still need to get those stocking stuffers.

Yep, we're in full-on frazzle here, and it feels good. Merry Christmas!

--P.