Did the Grinch Steal Christmas or Me?

I’ve spent lot of money on color copying at FedEx plus about 10 hours including standing in the rain waiting for the bus to take me to another bus stop with a sheltered chair to wait, to end up so far with 5 home made Christmas cards–16 pages of photos and sneaked cartoons–mailed them today and just remembered I forgot to staple them together and when the envelope is opened from this–shall I say the word–octogenarian–the loose pages will mysteriously flutter to the floor.  I give up, the balance of the loose sheets are headed for the trash cemetery, aka recycling.

I’m caught this crucial week before Christmas without my credit card. I got in a tiff with McAfee who wanted me to renew my security without giving me an option of one or two years–just “renew,” and I may not be alive in 2 years.  They proceeded and the bank thought California California might have been a mistake and I couldn’t remember and they ordered me a new charge card Dec. 4, which hasn’t arrived yet.  Grump grump. I know, I should be thankful to be alive (and you’d better believe I am), but my spreading joy is impaired.  So I turn to you, my beleaguered few, who have holiday emergencies of their own.

We could be in Yemen this minute.

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
This entry was posted in A mixed bag. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Did the Grinch Steal Christmas or Me?

  1. lynn__ says:

    I experienced a small Christmas emergency today. Printed Christmas letter, bought stamps, made address labels (difficulty printing them, son helped figure it out), had cards w/ envelopes ready. After stuffing and sealing about 20 cards, I re-read my letter (for umpteenth time) and found 2 mistakes, not just typos either!!

    I am now reprinting the (edited) letter and found extra envelopes from last year to replace ones I re-opened. Christmas will come, whether or NOT we’re ready 🙂 Do they celebrate Christmas in Yemen?

    Like

Please share your own experiences here...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.