In two hours or so, I'll have a tiny appetizer plate in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other, surrounded by twinkling lights, dance/pop music and a thousand coworkers from my part-time job. Getting there and back will probably be a huge, expensive pain in the ass: a cab-ride from My Cube to the Loop and back.
Mike emailed me an invite to this, but I am feeling tired and moody (closed Gallagher's #264 again last night) and may not feel up to attending, though it does sound interesting or "wacky" as he described it. [oddly enough: as I type this WLUW is playing Zelienople right now!]
And then there's a Christmas Exchanges with friends, family, and coworkers. Ah, the stress. Hell, I get a little sad walking the aisles of Jewel-Osco shopping for cheap and crap groceries for myself much less freaking out whether someone else will like what I buy. I hate asking for gifts and such from people, and I am not a big fan of buying stuff for others. A feeling probably related to some buried, hidden trauma from my childhood or something.
But I slog through every year.
And then there's the Terror of What Am I Going To Do New Year's Eve!
I like January 1st: the Holiday Horrors are done for one more year.
Okay, off to shave my head, and then down to the River East Art Center for coworker booze and mischief.