Wednesday, December 18, 2013
I'm exhausted. "Everybody is, it's the holidays," you say. Is everybody hearing jingle bells and ambulance sirens? I am! I've got a hubby home from the hospital who scares me on an hourly basis by one minute seeming fine and trying to push the limits of recovery time by asking me questions like, "Do you think I can drive with a neck brace," or "Are my feet supposed to be numb?" Not to mention refusing to take the pain meds the doctor ordered because taking them would be a sign that he's not getting better. Refusing to take pain meds! I want some pain meds. I wish someone would prescribe them for me! On top of that, I'm putting the finishing touches on a holiday script I wrote a while back that will see the light of day live on Christmas Eve - not to mention all the folks eyeballing it from home while they kiss under egg nog and drink mistletoe. No, that's backwards. And I think mistletoe is poisonous you so don't drink it. I'm on holiday overload. I've baked because despite the fact that our home has been turned into a hospital unit - although I feel it's more like a mental ward and I'm serving as Nurse Ratched -an inside joke for anyone who loves One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest - I want my children to not miss out on Christmas entirely. So I've been baking. Hourly. Maybe that's because I don't have any meds like my husband does, that he refuses to take. Chocolate chip cookies and red velvet cake with more peppermint and candy canes added to them than are legal in most states. I've taken my girls to see holiday lights and skate on what was supposed to be an old-time ice rink in Burbank. It's nice, but they can't really hide the fact that it's a city parking lot. Kinda kills the Dickensian feel. I think I've seen over 20 holiday performances in the last several months and if anyone mentions watching It's a Wonderful Life to me one more time I think I may hurt them. Happy Holidays! Talk at you in January!