Like so many of the greats, I write best when I am angry, depressed or just generally cranky and miserable. Gwen Stefani (no longer one of the greats in my book, but still delish) wrote her best music when she was suffering from Post Break-up Depression or PBD. When she became happy, her music went down the drain. Kurt Cobain's music was awesome because he was suicidal. Boo at me if you want, but deep down you know I am right.
Fuck Christmas. I had my 0.2 seconds of Christmas spirit and now it is gone. I just got paid and I am broke. I did not finish my Christmas shopping and I have to go see my parental units for the holidays. My two least favorite siblings will be present along with female sibling's douchebag. Call me a Grinch or a Scrooge, but I maintain my stance. Fuck Christmas.
I spent Thanksgiving alone. Ok the man was here, but I wanted to be alone. I thought he would leave but he did not. I had nothing to be thankful for and did not feel like being around other people where I would have to pretend to be thankful.
I am now planning on spending Christmas alone as well. I think I will tell various parties that I am at the other person's house. Much like my sisters did when they wanted to go out drinking and not let the parents know. I never did that, but I guess old tricks are the best.
Don't feel sorry for me because I am alone. I am alone by choice. I told the man that I did not want an L.T.R. with him and I meant it. I do not want to be with anyone. Very few get me and the men that I run into who pretend to get me want to change me. That includes some of my friends.
This Christmas I am going to shut myself in my fortress. Lock the doors and windows and shut off my phone. Pour me a glass of wine, pop some Vicodin and do nothing. Sounds like heaven to me. Merry Christmas to all of me. Buwahahahah. I rock. Peace out.