Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Every year. I'm serious - just about every year that I can remember, I get sick for the holidays. Usually right at Christmas but sometimes it comes on around New Years. Such is the case this year. I squeaked by CMas for the most part, but am sitting here in my fuzzy robe and socks, hair stringy and flat, nose red as Rudolph's with a mountain of Kleenex next to my keyboard and one stuffed up each nostril. My husband is such a lucky man.
And on top of everything we decided this year would be a great year to start a new holiday tradition - hosting our "first annual" NYE party. It sounded like a great idea at the time - and would be still - if I could breathe. Or swallow. But at this point, since my symptoms didn't come on in full force until yesterday there is no turning back. You can't cancel NYE for 20 of your friends. I just wish I felt tremendously better. I wish I had the energy to be the hostess with the mostest. Instead I'll probably greet everyone, make sure all the food is out and drinks are filled, and then I imagine around 10:00 I will leave hubby to entertain the masses and excuse myself off to bed. Neato.
You know, I cannot really remember a NYE that has lived up to the hype. Last year, due to the caucus (and hubby's lack of understanding of advance reservations) we had no where to go eat. When we did find someplace that could still fit us in, our little one decided not to cooperate and got very sick. We spent the evening with my parents at our house eating pizza and playing Sequence. It was fun, but not exactly the stuff movie scripts are made of.
So on top of an already crappy holiday season (I'll probably explain more at some point - maybe not...) I now get to spend my NYE sick with 20 drunk people in my house. I'm just cranky I don't get to be one of them.