It was another rollercoaster day, only this time I never even left the house.
Honestly, I thought I'd left the grinchiness behind and could sail through Christmas with a smile on my face and a melody in my heart. The first part of the day was just fine. The sun was shining between the clouds, and there was nowhere I had to be. That means I didn't have to shave and I could spend the whole day in sweats. That's usually the recipe for a wondrously peaceful experience.
Since I'd slept so late this morning, and so soundly, I didn't think I'd have That Problem today. I didn't think I'd have to deal with That Problem. That Problem that makes me lose patience until I find I want to put a fist through a wall or a chair through a window. I was okay most of the day, but I was wrong to try to get so much work done. By tonight I was hurtling over the cliff, screaming down the hill with no brakes.
Little things. I spent so much time getting a billing ready for seven customers in a housing development. Three pages, with slight variations tailored to each individual. This is my specialty, finely tuned work involving spreadsheets and word processing documents, all integrated and collated. Lots of attachments, plus a self-addressed stamped envelope. It took half the day, but I did it, all sealed and ready to mail.
Then I noticed I'd left out the attachments. I tore open the envelopes, as carefully as possible considering how irritated I was all of a sudden. I made enough copies of the sheets that had to go inside, and then did my best to reseal. As I said, little things, but enough to derail the holiday express. I was a mass of wasted energy, huffing and puffing and throwing elbows at invisible enemies.
You don't want to be around me when I'm like that. I don't want to be around me, either.