I'm feeling a bit like Rip Van Winkle today. It's day 20 of the Work Death March -- the only reason I am looking forward to Christmas at this point is that I won't have to work that day -- and I am TIRED. Last night as I headed up to bed (I think around 9:30/10 PM) I decided I'd either sleep in or go for a run, depending on what my body told me it needed. Apparently it needed sleep; I slept for at least 14 hours. I could have slept more but I had to come in to work so I got up and off I went. After changing out my car's headlight and stopping by Starbucks for a mocha and some coffee cake.
I can't wait until this month is over. I've already booked myself a four day weekend out of the office in January. It will be the weekend my marathon training officially commences. Which reminds me, the other day I was putting on my calendar the date of the Gazelle's next brew crew review. Because it's a Friday happy hour thing and I work until at least 5:30 p.m. I need to leave work early to make it there. I also realized that that Saturday would be my first 2010 race so I also put that on the calendar. Then I realized that the next day, January 10th, would begin official marathon training. And then I realized (aren't I am amazingly linear storyteller??) that in my training world Sunday is a rest day. So, long story short (too late!) my first day of official marathon training is.... a rest day. Hmm, I don't think I can manage that! It's too hard!
That was when I decided to take the Friday and Monday off for that weekend, so that for certain I will run on Monday as scheduled, without the extra added pressure of having to get up at 5:00 a.m. to do it. Then I can spend a leisurely time at the gym, maybe setting up a weights program if I haven't already (because that will be on the schedule for Tuesdays during training), using the steam room, etc. Maybe I'll even get a massage that day!
I'm supposed to be going to my boss's Christmas party tonight. Their personal one, not an office one (that one I bullied them into pushing off until January). I'm thinking I'll beg off. It's not the decisions about what to eat or how much to drink, although all of that is fabulous and might be a concern any other time. It's that I won't know a damn person there except for the people I work with and their families. So I end up with a plate in the corner trying not to look like I'm standing alone in a corner with aching feet counting the minutes until I can leave. I'm practically hyperventilating at the prospect. This is when I really dislike being single.
Speaking of Christmas, I have another story to share. I mentioned previously about how Christmas was never a huge deal in my family. And I'm okay with that and so is my mom. She and I have a special relationship all year long and it doesn't have to be a particular day for us to have that kind of Christmas spirit thing going on. Anyhow, I was entering a contest today at a website that asked, "What is your favorite holiday movie?" And I had to put down two answers. Because my sentimental favorite, the one that won't freak out the norms, is Love Actually. There is a fantastic cast and the stories are amazing and woven together so perfectly, it's really what the holidays are all about. But my traditional Christmas favorite is Lethal Weapon.
See, my stepdad came to us when I was about eight years old. And he was never into Christmas. He did the present thing and all, but then we all went our separate ways in the house for the rest of the day until time to eat dinner, etc. What he would do was watch movies. Not Christmas movies. Shoot 'em up movies. War movies. Just anything action. I don't like war movies, but I do like action films. But every year he got a little bit more grumpy about Christmas. He'd just get into this foul mood and the movies got worse and worse until one year -- I was around 13 -- he was watching Chuck Norris films all day. And there's one where the bad guys hang Chuck upside down by his feet and put a sack over his head, into which they put a live rat. So Chuck jerks and squirms and the bad guys laugh their evil laughs as blood squirts from the inside of the bag and then Chuck and the bag arestill. The bad guys laugh some more and pull the bag off Chuck's head.... to find that the rat has not killed Chuck as they intended but rather Chuck has BITTEN THE HEAD OFF THE RAT.
And I, who is watching this from the landing above, just start laughing. Probably with a touch of hysteria, but I'm laughing. And he's all, what? And I'm laughing, saying "Merry Christmas! Merry freakin' Christmas!" And still, he's all, what? I'm up there, "Because nothing says Christmas like biting the head off a live rat!" He's still puzzled, so my mom is pointing out to him that he's in a bad mood and it's kind of bringing us down, and finally he goes, "But I'm not in a bad mood." So I start laughing again. He, rather sheepishly, acknowledged that perhaps Chuck Norris is a little bit dark and so he switches movies to something more peppy with Schwarzenegger. So that became tradition in our house to watch action movies, but cheerful action movies. No biting the heads off of rats. We try to emphasize the ones with a Christmas theme: the Lethal Weapons, the Die Hards.
Anyone else have a family tradition that might seem unusual to outsiders?
Cheers,
the CilleyGirl
No comments:
Post a Comment