Okay y'all. It's been quite a day. It shouldn't have been, given that it's the freaking holidays, which are supposedly all about relaxing (unless, you know, you've ever been through one), but today has been about anything but.
To start with, I dragged my sorry ass out of bed at 7:00am, feeling like death warmed over. Well, more like death at room temperature, actually. Incidentally, I'm starting a goth metal band called Death at Room Temperature. Anyway, I forced myself out the door and all the way down to the office, where I found some weird lady waiting outside for me to let her in.
I'm all, "Who the hell are you?" and she's all, "I'm here to buy some tickets!" which is just great, because I can't sell the tickets, because I don't know how, because I'm just a temp. Not that I mind, because selling tickets is a huge pain in the ass, and people should be doing it over the phone anyway, which is so much more convenient for all parties involved and doesn't kick me off the computer for upwards of fifteen minutes at a pop. People are so inconsiderate.
Anyway, I tell her I'll be the only one here for untold lengths of time, and blah blah blah, and she promises to come back at lunch. Then, the shit hits the fan when Annabelle doesn't show up for work. Then people start calling, all crazy-like, pretending that Christmas isn't the freaking day after tomorrow, making all kinds of shoutrageous requests. Then people start pouring in off the streets to buy tickets! Like, why don't you just shoot me? Then Annabelle shows up, four hours late and drunk to boot, and then she goes home after much ado about conspicuous alcohol consumption. Merry Christmas! You're fired.
So now it's just Dolly and I. Thank goodness Dolly is so level-headed and imperturbable!
Mmph. HA HA HA! Whew. Yeah, right. In Bizarro Land.
So it's just me and Crazy Dolly, and people keep coming in for tickets, and people keep calling to make appointments and waste our time, and then they make me start taking clients out to see the boats and things, because I'm so qualified with my temp work and all. Seriously, folks, it's ridiculous. I'm out of here at 5:00, and I'm not coming back for two weeks, so everybody can kiss my ass.
And moving on, it's Christmas Eve Eve, you guys! I can't believe it. Christmas Eve Eve is traditionally the day when my sister and I run around all hyper, unable to sit still, anticipating all the goodies to come. This year, it's more about me trying to keep my throbbing headache at bay with copious amounts of ibuprofen, but tomayto, tomahto.
Whee! I just got a call from the Big Boss who told me to shut down early and blow this pop stand! I'm so excited. And I just can't hide it. I'm about to lose control, and I think I want you. Or something.
Wow, my stream of consciousness is all over the place today. Anyway, the point I was going to make at the outset of this whole business is that it just doesn't feel like Christmas this year. I suppose that's because it's, like, 60 out and sunny, and I'm used to snow and cold and needing to get all bundled up, and roaring fires and the smells of pine and frost and burning hickory, and clouded window panes, and I'm starting to sound like Burl Ives, aren't I?
Well, maybe it'll feel more like Christmas tomorrow night when I run the annual Christmas Eve Gauntlet at my sister's house. That yearly event always bears some strange fruit, let me tell you. Oh, and I should mention that I'll be starting a post-queer punk garage band called Strange Fruit. Now accepting submissions.
So anyway, all y'all that celebrate Christmas, have a merry one! I may write again soon, I may be way busy. Either way, glad tidings to you, whoever you are.