My Black Heart

You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch.
You really are a heel.
You're as cuddly as a cactus,
You're as charming as an eel.
Mr. Grinch.

Ooh I'm feeling awfully Grinch-like the last few days. I tried in vain to get into the Christmas spirit by wrapping presents. We've decorated our tree. I've baked cookies, made candy and tied it all with a bow. All to no avail. I just can't seem to pump some well-needed holiday cheer into my now tiny, hardened black heart.

Maybe it's our insane, disjointed schedule. Maybe it's the fact that H and T.D. are always sick lately. Maybe it's the overtime without pay I keep putting in, the endless meetings and rounds of changes at work and lack of gym time. My body hurts from lack of movement. If I don't get my yoga class asap I might snap. Either that or my shoulders will. I am literally on the verge of having a massive temper tantrum the likes of which have not been seen in anyone over the age of three. Unless of course your friends with Paris Hilton perhaps.

It all just came to head today when I realized I still have to buy some gifts, I can't find time to buy groceries again, and I'm already sick of wishing holiday goodness to people. I would rather box their ears. After which I will then crawl into my cave above the town and frown.

I don't know the remedy for this. It might be some vacation time. I have some but I can't take it. Maybe I should just say to hell with it and do it. Just one day. One day to find my holiday spirit and make my heart that has become two sizes too small go back to normal.