Stress blogging is not how I wanted to start this, but it's xmas, so it feels oddly appropriate. An hour ago I was getting stoned on my couch with my cats, worldbuilding a beautiful and sinister fairytale kingdom, reruns of 30 Rock in the background. It was exactly what I wanted to be doing. Now I'm on my mother's couch, pretending to be significantly less stressed out than I actually am, reminded of exactly how single I am, trying not to cry because I didn't get anything for anyone - not out of malice or ill-will or because I'm broke - no, this is the first xmas in a long time that I've even had any money to get anything for anyone, and I am spectacular at giving gifts. No, on Thanksgiving we decided not to do gifts, because my brother just lost his job and my mom needs to move to a cheaper place and my sister always secretly pays for things from my mom in one way or another. Apparently we are doing gifts this year? And no one communicated that to me? Nope. No one.

So now I'm here, antagonistic older brother looking for any sign of weakness to jump on, peacemaking younger sister over extending to make everyone happy, guilt loving mother always flinching, ready to find fault. Me, overly emotional with a terrible poker face looking for anywhere safe to have feelings and it is never at my mother's house. Never.

In the past I would have fingers flying over keypad to DH, martini, shaken, chilled. But DH is gone, and TR is gone and it's been sobertown for almost six months now. No cigarettes either. All I want to do is cry. DH/TR is all manner of fresh and all I want to do is cry and drink and smoke and I cannot do any of that here and I would have freaking loved to give people presents this year. Everything is the worst and I despise xmas more than anything.