Venting with Vodka

Still pissed off with the world at large? Check. Drunk several too many vodkas? Check. Sat at the computer past midnight? Check. Typing away when you should be in bed? Check. Using spellcheck? Am I duck as like.

I seriously feel a spate of Taffing coming on. Not only am I Scrooge's long-lost something-or-other, I am also Broke In That December Way that hits us all, and seriously contemplating whether I should cancel Christmas next year. Or maybe just tell everyone that they can have a gift card (even better, a gift card for the most pants shop on record. Which would be Tesco or some such thing I suppose). I mean honestly, is the sytress really worth it?

Okay, I LOVE the bit where I get to see my kids' faces lighting up on Christmas morning, but other than that, gift-buying should be banned. Kids only, no adults allowed. And no ducking cards either, because after writing out close to a hundred cards once again, I am sick and ducking tired of writing them

I start off really well, with full 'To so-and-so, hope you have a lovely Christmas, and best wishes for the New Year, lots of love from blah blah blah'. Once I hit the fifty mark, it's turned into 'To so-and-so,  -UNDERLINE CARD MESSAGE - love blah blah blah'. I just can't be arsed writing the full amount out, especially when my hand is killing me and because I have left it so late, I need to write them all out in one hit.

Then there's the present-wrapping. It's no joke when (if you're like me) you do it in two or three long sessions (and that is in no way meant to be smutty. I seriously am in no fit mood to be smutting all over the place). Thirty-eight presents I wrapped last week. In one morning. Yesterday it was another twenty. I have a few things I'm waiting for delivery, and when they come I can add them to the last of the gifts and wrap them up in the third of the Wrapping Sessions From Hell.

And it IS hell when a) you're 7-year-old wants to help, b) your cat thinks its playtime at the ducking circus and c) your ducking sellotape refuses to unstick (and when it DOES unstick, it only peels diagonally).

And if my flipping cat dives into my Christmas Tree one more time, I'm bloody taking it down.

Don't mind me, I'm just a whiny drunken scroogy bitch on a venting thingie. (Ugh, take out the scroogy paty and I could be Bella Boring Bitch From Twilight Swann. *shudders violently*)

How're we doinf for typos? I should probably check, but I can't be arsed.

Anyway, venting aside, I HATE people who moan, don't you? Doesn't it really irritate you when you phone someone for a chat, or visit someone for a coffee, and suddenly they thimk you're Claire Ducking Raynor, Agony Aunt Extrordionaire? (That's definitely spelled worng, er wrong (caught that one!). I mean, we're ALL ducking miserable about something or other, so do we really NEED other's people's crap on top of our own?

Yeah, alcohol makes me selfish. Sorry about that. Actually, no I'm NOT sorry about that. Sometines it's better to let it all out, youknowwhatImean? Heck, if it offends, then don't read on. *shrugs* It's not like I'm talking about anyone in particular, I'm just being general here. And honestly, I bet a lot of people would say the same thing. Selfish is bad for the most part, but a little bit doesn't hurt now and again.

And I just became the thing I hate the most. A person who moans at unsuspecting listeners (or readers, as the case may be. Or maybe no-one, as most people will have closed the screen by now and probably haven't got this far down the page anyway).

Gosh, I love vodka. Makers you say anything without feeling bad about it. Im currently mostly thinking that what I've typed is nothing much in the way of badness, but tomorrow morning is another thing. Or today morning, actually, because it is now the 13th December.

Lordy, I can already hear my daughter yelling 'only nine sleeps to my birthday!!' *dies* And it's Sunday tomorow (is that two 'r's oir two 'm's?)

I'm going to lurk on facebook now, mostly because I can't think of anything else to say, but also because I have a feeling that I've said far too much (most of which is largly nonsense(

Ah well.

(Still no pictures because of that virius thingie. Which is probably good because I don't know what sort of pictures would go with this complete and utter pantsy-type post thingie anyway).