Holidays must aggravate my neurosises---err, insanity

I bet that is not the the plural form of neurosis. Surely it is neurosES. Dr Kate? Is that right?

Well one more thing for me to fret about. I cannot even spell the things wrong with me, and spelling is probably my number two skill.

Anyway, that is not the point.

I have started recognizing some even more interesting quirks about myself. I know one of my really absurd things that I fight all the time is an inordinate amount of rage about my schedule getting jacked up. Nothing pisses me off more than someone screwing up my schedule. I can do that, and I do, every day, but no one else can. The holidays are so busy that there is always a schedule jam packed with activities and it totally overwhelms me.

But I noticed something else about me that is utterly insane. When I wrap gifts, I get all wound up about choosing the right kind of paper--for the last few years I have only used metallicy kind of paper. However, I am also cheap as hell, so that makes the whole thing very tense for me. But even worse than only using a certain kind of paper is that I have to wrap the boxes the same direction. This works out fine most of the time. But SOMETIMES the paper is not big enough. This is where the OCD of me breaks down. You would think, being neurotic like I am, that I would start over. Get some different paper. Or turn the box the other direction.

But oh no. This hangup is running smack into another one--my absolute refusal to waste paper. This sets me off into a tailspin. What to do? I have to decide and it is like there is a gun to my head to do it. Terrible. No matter what I decide, I worry about it---this messes up my wrapping skills, and inevitably, I end up messing up the package so it looks like someone's drunk uncle wrapped it then stomped on it. Or even worse, there is a NEKKID spot. Can you imagine? And I give it like that, and cannot even shut my pie hole long enough to hope no one notices--I even point it out to the recipient. What is the matter with me?

I cannot even cut the paper well--the edge will be all jagged and icky and I am too lazy to even fold it over so that you cannot see it.

But I don't care about that for some reason. It must be because my dad was right all these years, when he said I half-ass everything. Does anyone else say "half-ass" like that? He has always said it and now I catch myself doing it too. Not a good sign that I am not actually turning into him.

This is all very strange to be discovering about me at 36. But while we are at it, let's talk about this. We always had those colored lights on our Xmas tree when I was little. When I was in college or later, mom wanted to or actually did use clear lights. I went batshit. It was like I was shot. I do not even know why, I never really liked Xmas at all and sure did not help decorate. Man those clear lights pissed me off. And when she made something besides a turkey for Thanksgiving, I had a similar breakdown, and every year at Xmas, I am afraid she is going to make a damn tenderloin or something equally blasphemous. Who cares? Evidently I do. Because I am nuts.

This year, Edward is cooking Xmas dinner, I guess. At Thanksgiving, I heard him talking under his breath to Mandy about meat, and "Bringing up the meat", while we were at the dinner table. Because I do not have good sense to not touch comments like that, I had to stick my nose in it and ask what they were talking about. I could tell Edward was nervous to raise the issue, but he wanted to know what kind of reaction would occur were he to serve a TERDUCKEN. WTF is a terducken, I ask? Clearly this is just the reaction he anticipated, that is what he was whispering about.

What I came away with is that a terducken is a turkey with a duck shoved up its ass, who then has a chicken shoved up his ass. Is that true, or is he just trying to set me off? I have had much concern about this freak bird like creature--poor mutant thing. I do not think it is necessary that birds (as poorly behaved as most birds are even) be tortured with some other bird shoved up their ass just so we can make up funny words like terducken. It just ain't right. Plus, it reminds me of when my dad said he was painting the bathroom Turkle, which was a cross between turquoise and purple. I should have known he made it up, as dad does not paint. So I wonder if Edward is jacking with me on this deal with the birds up the ass.


Do you see what I mean? This is some anxiety producing bidness for me--I have 50 gifts to wrap for Barry and I cannot even get out of this chair to do it because I don't know if I can find the good tape, and it is all too much for me. That might also be why I will not end this post--cuz then I will have to do something else.

Am I the only one who is this crazy?