I was going to work on Christmas eve. Really, I was. I told people "I'm have to work on Monday" and I meant it. On Sunday night I went to bed with the intention of working the next day. I set an alarm, woke up early, and due to the office xmas party it would only have been a half day of work anyhow.
But I didn't go to work and I didn't show up for the xmas party and I stayed at home with my family instead. I used up my last remaining vacation day of the year and I wrapped presents and saw friends and watched feel-good movies (The Waitress, which my mother had rented). I did the things that people do when they find themselves at home with family on xmas eve.
So did I feel guilty about not going to work? Yes, I did. Did I try to justify my actions to myself? No, I did not (okay, sorta). I simply berated myself for being such a bad, horrible, mean spirited person.
Merry Christmas everyone. A day late, a dollar short, but meaning every last word of it.
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the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
