I'm feeling a little bit over Christmas, especially since Mum informed me last night that I was to use the Christmas money she sent me to buy presents, then wrap them and bring them to her place, so we can go through the charade of opening the presents there - she can't be bothered to buy us presents herself - nice to know! I mean towels, I can always use towels, BM likes getting a new shirt, and J enjoys cash - what's different about this year, that she can't do that again. I know I should feel terrible about bitching about my little old 83 year old mother, but I'm already getting the stressed out-tense-oh my God-how am I going to cope with Mum for 4 days-Christmas guilt blues, and it's still 10 days till we head for the old homestead. Yikes!! I think next year I will do all my Christmas shopping online or at eBay - cuts down the stress to the minimum, or maybe just cancel the whole damn thing.
Had a pleasant afternoon yesterday with some old work-mates/friends. One was a fellow WorkCover Inspector (R) that BM (and I) worked with, and his wife (J), the other a clerical officer we worked with (N), and her husband (T) (here's me admitting to a slight case of nepotism - I filled an emergency client service position at BM's workplace for a couple of weeks, and ended up staying on for about 6 years). Very interesting working in the same space as your partner - wouldn't recommend it for everyone, but it worked for us. I have great admiration for J - she was let go/made redundant/sacked from her bank teller job a few years ago - about the same time I was rejected for the job I had been doing for 6 years, and she was telling me that she has been to 18 job interviews with no success. I found 5 rejections were enough for me - my self-esteem didn't need that continual battering. I don't know how she keeps trying, but good on her for not letting the bastards get her down! N & T are expecting their first bub in February, and R & J are expecting their first grandchild in January, so there was plenty of baby talk around the barbeque.
BM said the most depressing thing to me yesterday when we were discussing the length of the upcoming visit to my mum's place, 3 sleeps only, to limit J's angst at being away from the computer and the big smoke and his friends - the next time we head to Grenfell for Christmas J will be nearly 20, and therefore probably won't come with us - all I could think was BUT HE'S MY BABY, he won't be, he can't be, that old in 2 years time, but yes he will be, and there is no way that I can stop time. It is going to be so hard to let go. SIGH.