Bah...

Humbug.

Remember what I said the other day about work (see third paragraph)? I was either living in some fantasy land, or have been duly punished for bragging about my cake walk of a job. Let's just say things on my plate are so overflowing that my boss called a meeting with the other IT managers to tell them not to expect much from me in the next few weeks, since he's made unrealistic demands that I have to meet by the end of the month.

Ok, that's not exactly how he worded it, but it's what he said.

About the only thing at work I'm ok with is secret santa. Although, I think I figured mine out this morning and there's still 6 days left. At least I still get a gift a day. :) Don't you love the holiday spirit and the joy of getting giving?

Honestly, I'm over the Christmas thing already. Maybe this weekend in Chicago will change things, but I doubt it. I mean, seeing the kids enjoying the party will be good, as long as I'm not hung over, and the lights along Michigan Avenue are always gorgeous, but I doubt the effect will last through the flight home.

While at the most recent family dinner (note to self: convince sister-in-law that we REALLY should celebrate her birthday in June), I found out that mom not only thought I would spend Christmas Eve and the day after Christmas at her place, but I would also drive there on Christmas morning. Apparently, Santa will be upset if we don't open our gifts and dump out the stockings on the actual holiday.

I told her that while I would have thoroughly enjoyed three trips to Spring Hill over the course of three days, I had already accepted an invitation to Christmas dinner elsewhere, and since it would be necessary to be at the game around 4:00 for tailgating, and everyone (or almost everyone) at dinner would be going to the game, I was pretty sure dinner would be early enough to make a morning round trip to southern Williamson County impossible.

But, in my defense, I have agreed to spend the entire day next Saturday baking holiday treats with her, and go back on Sunday for a family dinner (and she's demanded I bring a date, to which I've also agreed), and I know who the elves were that bought her a pre-lit Christmas tree and had it delivered to her doorstep so she could put it in front of her attic windows so neighbors passing by at night would see the lights (I swear, she's the only person I know who decorates her attic). And if I have to pull that trump card, I will, although I'd rather it remain a surprise.