Jesus Christ! Why'd you have to go and get born during the busiest season of the year?

Damn holidays. Damn turkeys. Damn families. Damn travelling. Damn spending money on overpriced gadgets and gidgets and clothing from the Northeast. Damn it.

It's the night before Thanksgiving
and all through the house
Theres's a feeling of hopelessness
and tragedy and stress.

There's work to be done
that's not getting done
and there's dishwashers needing emptying
But I just can't friggin' deal.

I just spilled dirt all over the floor
and the Kirby died
Whilst shampooing the spot.

I'm trying to pack
to drive to Kentucky
to meet some future in-laws
and the eighty thousand cousins of my boyfriend.

The cat won't stop eating the plant
that caused the dirt spot;
not even twenty squirts from the waterbottle
have prevented her crimes.
Now she's gonna yack. Probably right
on the spot just vacuumed.
Fuck.

I've got this new job and I'm
not quite sure what I'm doing and then!
the holidays come and screw everything up.
Man, am I over it.

I'm already wishing it were January 9th
some stupid nondescript day
where nothing happens except
normal crap that does NOT involve
driving half-way around the world,
or stuffing
or pumpkin pie
or memories of dead relatives
or that sinking feeling that occurs after
all the presents have been unwrapped.

I wish every season could be filled with
peace, hope, and goodwill. The damn fact
of the matter is we all turn into demons this
time of year and run each other over on the highways
instead of looking twice.

Just so we can stuff our gaping maws with
fattening foods and watch some MORE damn football.

*sigh*

I just don't DO holidays.