I had a near anxiety attack in the middle of TJ Maxx this evening. Not cool.

Lights are up. The big patio window is covered in white grid lights and the tree is blinged out in pretty multi-colored lights. Ornaments are next...eventually...likely tomorrow.

And, in preparation for Onerous Task day, the winter tires are in my car ready for me to take them to the shop in the morning. The other task I have been avoiding has too much backstory to note here, but I'm not sure if I'm mentally ready to deal with it.

ita, time? um. NSM. I think I just have to get to Christmas. Between now and then we have a pre-op physical for Grace, Grace's IEP which we had reopened, Noah's Christmas program, Parent-Teacher conferences at K's school, parent-teacher conferences at my school, submitting grades, christmas shopping, a bronchoscopy and laryngotomy for Grace, Grace's first PT appointment at a new clinic, K's jury duty, renting a facility (The Peterson Auto Museum!) for Noah and Grace's birthday party in March (no seriously), Noah's class party.

And a partridge in a pear tree!

Onerous Task day is my bro's b-day. I will paypal him a car part. Because I am that lame.

renting a facility (The Peterson Auto Museum!) for Noah and Grace's birthday party in March (no seriously)

Oooooh!

And here I'm whining about scheduling a not-really-date via a proxy. (Notthinkingnotthinkingnotthingking.)

is the proxy Rachel?

It kills me that I've known Rachel for over a decade now!

Man, I go to kink parties. I see lots of naked naughty bits and activity that's...pretty fucked up, really. But cuddle parties are NOT ON. God DAMN, that skeeves me beyond the telling of it.

...my life is unusual.

Yep, Rachel. She's probably exasperated as all fuck at me, since she seems to be really gungho and proactive, and I'm all whatever, let me survive the next month.

Dude, you've probably known me a decade.

Maybe, sara. I've known her for 13 years, give or take. Crazy.

I don't want to cuddle anyone I don't know and like and feel really comfortable with. And even then, not all of *them*.

Except for The Ackles. I'd cuddle him and his bow legs in a hot second. Tom Hardy *wishes* he had bow legs like that.

Kat, 'tis the season for horrible stress. I'm sorry. Grit your teeth and carry on? With a drink before bed maybe?

Can't recall how you know her. Utne? College? All a blur, and freaking odd to have that sorta-unconnection connect with lisah et al. Or not weird, as the world is small (one of lisah's dad's boyscouts was one of my dad's grad students. And that is not the only odd crossed-path there.)