2003-12-17 - 9:08 a.m.
I'm starting to realize why Christmas stresses me out so much.
It's not the incessant bombardment of consumption messages.
It's not the bad music and false bonhomie and cheesy decorations.
It's not the inevitable family conflicts and the traveling from house to house to stuff yourself silly on mediocre food.
It's the final reckoning that the end of the year brings on. Suddenly having to scrape together money to cover the bills plus buy presents and pay the personal property tax bills. Suddenly all your bad qualities are revealed, your financial indiscretions are disclosed, and you have to face the fact that you screwed up big time this year.
You busted ass to dig yourself out of debt, and suddenly you're right back in. You're flat broke busted, macaroni and cheese poor, redlined and counting pennies until the next paycheck.
Suddenly makes that trip to New York seem like a major indiscretion, don't it?
We'll make it through. We always do. But having grown up in a household that watched every penny and fed a family of four on $20 in groceries, every time we come up short I start kicking myself and questioning my ablities as a father, husband, and provider. Worse, I start grouching at J, and then kick myself for blaming her, and next thing you know I'm in a generally shitty mood all around and start contemplating drink.
But as Heinlein said, a bottle is no place to escape your troubles. The neck is wide enough for your pointy little head but not for your shoulders.
There's so much to do to the house that we can't really afford. We've overextended ourselves yet again. Yet we're healthy, our daughter is gorgeous, good things are happening in the extended family overall, and we're not starving.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow…
