I am apparently having an allergic reaction to my house. I felt great the whole time I was in LA - walked in my house Monday night, and within 30 minutes, I was knocked on my ass with the flu. I am so whiney and miserable and achy and coughing like I'm hacking up a lung. My sinuses are playing the part of Niagara Falls, When I talk I sound like a frog. I can't breathe, and making it as far as the toilet leaves me panting and out of breath.
I don't get sick often. When I do, it is generally right at Christmas - I actually slept through one Christmas when my kids were little because I was so sick. It is a somatic response to the stress I feel every Christmas. Christmas is, sadly, not one of those joyous wonderful holidays for me. It is pure stress, because of the expense of it all.
People think I hate Christmas because I am so non-religious. No. I hate Christmas because it is so damn materialistic and expensive that I can't possibly do what I want to do for everyone, let alone give my kids the gifts they really want the most.
Especially this year, since Scott lost his job this week.
I'm going back to bed. Blah.