My bloggish crotchety-ness may make my life sound worse than it actually is ... December is often my worst month, it's true, but it's not December yet, I don't consider it xmas season until after my sister's birthday on Dec. 1, so I'm in PMS mode, not full-blown xmas fear mode, not to worry. I really am quiet around here, more than anything, because of what I said back on the 10th.
I just sent a long email to Charlie ... maybe I'll steal some of it and post it here, as an update to what's going on. Thanksgiving wasn't bad at all ... I started freaking out that day, it's true, but the holiday I have problems with is xmas, not Thanksgiving. I just got depressed by one of my students on Thanksgiving night ... not sure why, exactly, there was nothing new, just the wrong time for the frightful combination of refusing to experience new things and a relentless desire for a grade rather than knowledge that one of my students showed me in lieu of an apple on my desk.
I often wonder why xmas bothers me so much. It forces me out of my shell, which is good for me but nonetheless produces anxiety ... I have to spend extra time with family, which isn't so bad since my parents died ... man, that sounds cold, doesn't it? I don't hate my parents, and there are a lot of worse ones out there, but they were a pain in the ass to be sure, I can't say I miss them. There's the part where everyone is supposed to buy people stuff, which isn't quite so creepy now that I can buy stuff online, but I really really really hate to shop and that's one of my fears of xmas even though I don't have to do it much anymore. Part of me thinks I never got over Santa Claus being a lie ... I loved Santa Claus and getting presents, and I'm shallow enough that I miss the present part of xmas, not that you don't get presents when you're older, but you can usually get the stuff you want without someone giving it to you, xmas presents are for the young, and I wouldn't be surprised if that bothered me on some level.
And then I feel like such a shitty father, because xmas IS for kids, and I suspect my only contribution to my kids' xmas was that their dad was a jerk, I don't know that I ever did a single thing in close to 30 xmases that Neal or Sara would consider a good thing, and that's pretty fucked up.
Not to mention the Rubio family xmas where I told my mom to get fucked. Liberating for me, but it kinda put a damper on that year's festivities ...
Mostly, though, I resist the part where everyone is supposed to be happy because it's xmas. I don't start out the holidays being miserable, more non-committal, but then everyone starts acting like we're all supposed to be happy, and that's guaranteed to put me in a bad mood.
Oh well ... I've got life dicked and I'm still miserable, the story of my life, as I've said many times, back when we were young and I was truly miserable, Robin told me one time that I'd never be happy, and she sure wishes she could have that one back because I always act like I'm just justifying her opinion. I've got a great wife and great kids and great friends, I barely have to work, I can indulge in a my-life-is-meaningless-let's-fuck-off attitude on a regular basis, and yet here I sit, complaining to myself and wondering why I bother. I would be funny if it wasn't pathetic, or maybe it's funny AND pathetic.