Was not quite feeling festive this morning. Was redder than the dress I ended up wearing to the Christmas party, actually.
Mom said don’t go. Avoid any more chances to be upset.
I fucking put on that red dress and had a hell of a good time. Because THAT is what a Goddess does.
When I left, she commended my choice to go to the ball. “That fireplace will be there tomorrow, Cinderelly.”
Also, where else could I rock my fabulous new hat?
There’s an organic food place I visit two or three times a week.
They advertised for Christmas dinners. Ham or turkey. Caprese or Brie en croute. Root veggies and bourbon pecan pie. Order now for Saturday pickup.
So I ordered … and was told they can’t help me because I only need two meals. 10 minimum. Didn’t you read the sign?
Then they emailed again. Ok we will sell you five meals. Deal?
Dude. I did not shit out three kids overnight.
Great to know that a family of five is more important than me trying to perk up our sad little Christmas with a special meal.
So basically, a longtime regular customer spending $40 for two meals isn’t important. The way to make me feel better is to charge me $100.
Welcome to Trump’s America, folks.
(Also, fuck the electors who voted for him. Double-fuck the Hillary defectors. I was rooting for Kasich or McCain anyway, but Jesus the electors ex-Supran are as dumb as the people they represent. )
In any event, my money spends just fine anywhere I take it. I’m just pissed that now I have to come up with a new plan instead of a place I like and trust. And sad that I could be referring to either a restaurant or a country I’ve lost faith in.