I need to get happy. I need to get chipper. I need to get Christmasy. But my life simply will not let me. The weather is cooperating, today anyway. Yesterday it was 78 degrees. Today it’s 53 and falling. So at least it’s holiday weather — until the front moves thru. But I’m gonna tell ya — people are flat-out annoying me. This is not to be confused with my usual, surly attitude towards all who don’t think the way I do. This is a much bigger problem. This is a general disgust with mankind.

Any of you who have had the ill fortune to view this page over the past couple of days will be quick to realize that I’m not really happy with my football team right now. And this bothers me much more than it should. Believe me, I wish I didn’t care so much. But I do, and it does. So I’ve been pretty cranky. So cranky that it probably was not a good idea to attempt a fast-food drive-thru experience yesterday. But hey, how bad could it be?

How. Bad. Could. It. Be. Wow. Never again will I wonder that. Never again will I doubt anyone’s ability to ruin my life. I’ll keep it short, because I truly think last week’s library experience may have run a few of you off. Let’s just say that it took over an hour. Three different employees. And one manager, who, quite begrudgingly, I might add, finally got up from her smoking break to help me. I know, I know. Most of you would have driven off. I would have, too, but first, it was Sonic, so I wasn’t sitting there with my car running. I was at one of the little parking spots, listening to the sounds of the season on the booming, crackling transistor radio speakers perched on the pole next to me. But second, and most importantly, I wanted chili on my burger, dammit. There. I’ve said it. I am a Sonic chili-cheeseburger ho. And no one else can fill that need. So I was stuck. However, when it became evident that no one wanted my family to eat, I lost it. Really lost it. You gotta remember, I’m the textbook passive-aggressive. Even when I am really, really mad, I don’t confront people. I seethe, then spin out of the drive thru (usually over a curb, causing damage to my vehicle), but I just don’t yell at people. This was infuriating, I tell you. The grand total ended up being an hour’s wait, three, count it three, separate orders sent back to be completely remade, and one loud, screaming rant to a manager. The little guy bringing the food kept telling me, “I’m just the bellhop, ma’am.” Poor guy. Oh the hell with him. It was a character-building experience for him.

And now I’m surrounded with people who are done with their shopping. Me? I’m not even done with the list of people I have to shop for. Much less what I am going to buy them. And what’s worse, I really don’t even care. I’ve been listening to Christmas music, because that usually works for me, at least up until the time Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmas Time” song rears its ugly head. Then, like the groundhog, I burrow back into my little hole and wait till everyone goes away (or the song stops playing).

So I’m leaving it up to you guys to do one of two things: (1) agree with me wholeheartedly and be Grinchy with me, or (2) send me some Christmas spirit. Either will be fine.

Happy Monday.

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