Butter for Beer

I'm laughing at the rambling nonsensicalness of Last Post. (Why did I think blogging was necessary after stuffing stockings till five in the morn?)

I confess that as sin, OK?

My moral inventories (AmZyg's purpose, afterall) have been pretty thin, so, lessee. What else...

...Oh. Arguing with April yesterday about boys & wasted college course tuition. T'ms Eve is not a time to joust
...judging my church leadership
...hating my family's Christmas sensitivities
...throwing away D2's thong (It got into my laundry and, well, that's just passive aggressive to chuck it w/o a second thot when I was tossing my load into the dryer)
...using DH's debit card when my Christmas cash ran out
...not having the umphf to turn around and hazard the crowd at Nordstrom Rack when I knew OS's wished for gift was in there
...not calling the guy in Vista whose wife died two years ago, ending our 23 year holiday get-together tradition
...not making the effort to befriend ladies on our street who choose to avoid the neighborhood ladies' -christmas brunch
...faking that I liked DH's earring gift when I didn't

...AAAnd, finally, trading a lb of butter for D2's last Heineken. I know I'm called by a Saviour who loves us to steer clear of alcohol, but my beloved O'Douls was gone and... no excuses. I am driven to drink when stressed and unhappy.  It will go bad for me if I keep sneaking everyone else's wine and brandy, beer and rum.  Why, this is MY home, and my rules should apply, but, in a fit of self serving "enabling," I've eased up on the alcohol ban.  Hic-up.

I will continue this later; still craving yet another long awaited winter's nap. Christmas fatigue? or depression? May the angels of our merciful God attend this home, these kids and their callings. May the nine books (seriously?) OS rec'd from all and sundry sibs and parentals actually percolate into his spirit, leaving him hungry to wade into those baptismal waters. Sooner than later (that poor soul, taking such a HIT by being the repository of every generational flaw and curse, both maternal and paternal).  And bless the girls whose passive aggressive mom still suffers from powerful immaturities: anger, resentment and feeling rejected by people who shouldn't matter...

And bless this week of new year prep when DH settles matters, makes plans for the next year, and begins praying seriously about career moves.