Merry Christmas to all

This is the first Christmas I think I've ever had to recover from. You may think that strange, because from what I hear, most people need about a week of bed rest and warm liquids after the holidays. But all I can say is that I've had a lovely, extended childhood wherein every Christmas has been a magical wonderland of bliss, fun, togetherness, and spoils. Until now. So happy birthday to me, I'm finally a grown-up who can give the holiday season the respectful dread it deserves.

Nevertheless, it was a good Christmas. I'll always look forward to family events because I get to see my out-of-town cousins, who were my best friends growing up and with whom I have miraculously managed to remain very close, despite the fact that until recently, they lived six hours away. We're all a shameless bunch of overachievers and as such, we're always busy. But the one thing there is always time for -- or else -- is a family gathering.

Total Christmas events attended in the span of two days: 7

Total number of iPods distributed: 3

Total number of diamonds I received from my husband who knows I don't like diamonds but somehow knew there was enough of a girl inside me screaming to get out that I'd like these: 7

Total last-minute visits to Walmart: 4 (5 if you count the time we had to go back for something after walking all the way back to the car, which, if you've ever been to the East Gadsden SuperWalmart on Christmas Eve Eve, you'll know is a long walk indeed)

Love Song to a Wage Hour Technician

I don't know why I feel the need to mention this, but I haven't read any blogs in over a week. Know what that means? It means there's enough new blog material out there to last me ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT. It kind of feels like a Christmas gift, and it's sitting there for me to open whenever I want. Or, whenever I have time, which is why I delayed gratification in the first place. I might start doing it on purpose from now on though, just to have something to look forward to all the time.

By the way, I'm still on hold. I think my Wage Hour Technician has taken an early lunch. Thank you, Wage Hour Technician! You're the reason I have time to read blogs today!

I'm on hold...

as we speak.

I'm calling a government agency. This would suck, except for the fact that I keep getting tickled over this one thing. See, everybody at this office does this cute thing where they record their name (or job title, if they're not important enough) in their own voice. I'm sure they thought it was a great way to make their boring beaurocratic phone directory a little more personal. The person I'm trying to reach is someone called the Wage Hour Technician, and when she recorded her job title (because she's not important enough to have a name), she left a big long pause at the end. Now, when you're on hold at this office, they have a recording loop that starts with that little personal recording of the name of the person you're waiting on. It goes on to say that they're busy. Like so:

"[Personal recording] Wage Hour Technician... [/PR] is still busy. You are number 2 in line...

Then they play some music for a while and a calm voice reassures you that they haven't forgotten about you.

Here's what happened when I heard this loop the first couple of times:

Recording: "Wage Hour Technician..."

Me: Hi, I have a question about...

Recording: ...is still busy. You are number 2 in line.

Me: D'oh!

[Music...calm voice...]

Rec: "Wage Hour Technician..."

Me: Hi, I, uh...

Rec: ...is still busy. You are number 2 in line.

Me: Oh for the love.

[Music...calm voice...]

Rec: "Wage Hour Technician..."

Me: ...

Rec: ...is still busy...

Me: HA!

The thing is (and I am still on hold), I have been through this loop now at least twenty times, and each time I hear "Wage Hour Technician", I have to pause and give her a chance to say, "May I help you?" Then, when she doesn't, I feel like an idiot all over again.

This is getting pissy. But at least I'm number 1 in line now. Actually, I've been number 1 in line for the last 10 minutes. I hate the government.

Hear that, Bro? I hate the government. C'mon, bitch, arrest me. ARREST ME!

HOMOCIDAL

YOU HAVE BEEN DULY WARNED. THE NEXT PERSON I SEE WILL BE KILLED. DON'T WIN THAT LOTTERY. IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU ARE PROBABLY MY GOOD FRIEND THAT I DON'T WANT TO KILL SO PLEASE DO NOT SPEAK TO ME, VISIT ME, OR DRIVE PAST ME.

ALSO, PRAY FOR MY UNSUSPECTING HUSBAND.

THAT IS ALL.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

RIGHT. THAT IS ALL.

Actually, if I may pass on some wisdom I have garnered by experience: Frustration with electronic equipment and three cups of coffee are unmixy things. Be advised.

That is all. Really.

Performance Anxiety

I was on my way home from work tonight and I remembered I needed to call someone. The someone didn't answer so I had to leave a message. Some people just don't have trouble with this. But we all have different strengths and weaknesses, and one of my weaknesses has always been hyper-awareness of any actions that cannot be undone. Namely, my voice, sounding stupid, recorded for posterity.

This is what got me thinking about all the things we stress out about in life, which for me would be a very long list. I read an article in a trade magazine where a guy said, "Stress is a decision. It's something you can decide not to indulge." Has anyone ever said something like that to you and your gut reaction was, "Well, thank you O Wise One. I am just doing this for my health, of course, but I'll just decide not to anymore and that will be that."? Because that's what I said.

But when I think about it now, I can honestly think of several things I've decided not to stress out about. For instance, how many countless times have I been on a stage in front of lots of people singing and strumming my guitar? Enough times that I am no longer obliged to chew my fingernails off in agonized anticipation. How many business calls have I had to make? Enough to be confident I can achieve professionalism that doesn't sound faked, much as I still feel like it is. How many times have I run a mile? Enough to be sure that I can do it as long as I keep moving and keep breathing. God, what I would give to have known that on Presidential Physical Fitness Week in high school.

So that's where my brain was on my way home tonight. Kind of encouraging, I thought.