Holy Night

Holy Mary Mother of God. That seems to be just about the most appropriate curse I can come up with right now, because I'll bet that woman was tired too, after dragging her damn self all over town just trying to find a place to sit her ass down.

Today I walked into the cafe, and was offered a shift - starting right then and there. And it was busy in the restaurant, and I didn't have enough cash to pay for the breakfast we were planning to eat ANYWAY, so I said yes. Yes of course. Absolutely. I would *LOVE* to work.

And I was thrilled - it was busy, I made money, everyone was happy, all was well.

But my god, I think my legs might fall off. I am not just saying that. I mean it.

Fall. Off.

But it is all worth it because, you see, I am trying to be a real honest-to-goodness writer. I need to earn my street cred. Real writers (and actors, and musicians) wait tables. Or enjoy an assortment of other cash-money, easy to quit gigs that do not require (nor provide) references.

And as a writer, I need to make some cash money, to finance my extremely tenuous monthly budget.
Hah. Budget my ass. More like, write some checks and just hope it all works out.
Oops. Except for that auto-payment for the cellphone that I forgot about. Oh, shit, and the car payment that gets deducted each month. (sigh). I think I just made a big boo-boo in my checking account.

I am very overdraft dependent. As any self-respecting writer would be.

I am also angst-filled, and overly dramatic, and I like to drink and smoke and talk while waving my hands around. I take long hot showers, where I compose columns and articles and press releases in my head, and then run - naked - to the computer, clutching my towel around me and trying to get everything out of my very cluttered mind, and onto my hard drive.

I bet you are SO GLAD I shared that with you.

Let's get back in the holiday spirit, shall we ?

Today, we delivered a Christmas meal and presents to a family that was identified by a social services agency as "needy". We explained to the kids that we were going to go and bring food and presents to a family that could not afford to buy gifts this year, or have a nice meal. That really, everyone deserved a present on Christmas, and that we had so much, it was important to share. I think I prepared them well. They were excited, glad to be "playing santa" and proud to be helping someone in need this holiday season.

They would not be quite so needy, methinks, if they sold their GIGANTIC WIDE SCREEN TV.

When the father opened the door, we were all mesmerized by the TV. The TV that was, literally, the size of a small car. It took up most of one wall of the living room. When I say it was a good 5 or 6 feet across (and not diagonally - I mean straight across) I am not exaggerating.

Disillusionment, anyone ?

I'd like to say, to anyone in need....let me know how I can help. I want to help. It makes me feel good inside to help others. Need someone to watch the kids ? No problem. Need a ride ? I'll be there. Want to come over for dinner ? See you at 6.

But don't tell social services that you are in need of Christmas presents for your kids, when there is literally so much shit in and around your house, that you could open a second-hand store.

You know what I do when I need money ? I have a YARD SALE. I sell things on Craigslist. I don't call Family Services and sign up for charity. If you have a roof over your head, then there is someone more in need then you this holiday season.

And if you have a TV the size of a golf cart, you should just go fuck yourself, because you know what, those things are obnoxious, and I bet your neighbors below you and next door to you HATE YOU FOR IT.

Happy Holidays, asshole.
(Oh, did that sound negative? I really didn't mean it that way. I meant it in the lighthearted, fun way. Ha. Hahaha. Asshole.)