Just as reliable as the turkey coma and the pumpkin pie overload on Thanksgiving is getting mind numbingly stir-crazy. My body is confused–it ate dinner at 2pm and had a nice long nap, but now it’s 5 hours after the biggest meal of the day and I’m…hungry again? I’m not even sure. Am I tired? It’s only 6 o’clock–plus I just woke up. Nothing is open except maybe the gas station, and since this is “my parents’ house” and not where I actually grew up, there are no high school friends to call. Naturally, I park myself in front of my parents’ computer in search of word from the outside world. But no sooner do I log into MySpace do I hear echos of ”whose pictures are those? Can I see?” and “I need to check something, how long are you gonna be?” (Not that I don’t love the family. But now that I’m an “adult” and stuff, I’m not used to them being there ALL. THE. TIME.)
Even the usual suspects that keep me entertained in my lonely little cubicle at work are failing me. Not that I expect the folks at Gawker to work holidays just so I can read my celeb gossip on Thanksgiving, but you can only read so many articles on what to do with your turkey leftovers. (By the way, Slate’s article opposing the bastarization of turkey leftovers couldn’t have been more spot on. It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without a microwaved plate of turkey and stuffing while watching late night TV because that tryptophan nap TOTALLY screwed up your internal clock. If you want turkey samosas, go to Balucchis.)
My only speck of light at the end of the holiday tunnel: shopping. I’m not planning on getting up before the sun and camping out infront of Macy’s or anything–even though some stores are opening, well, tonight, so I’ll actually probably miss out on most of the good stuff. But I’m a working girl now, and I make my own money, so girlfriend’s gotta hit up the sales. Which means girlfriend might have to knock some bitches over for a 70% off cashmere sweater. I’ll have to remember to bring my brass knuckles.
Filed under: Bah! Humbug., Rants
