twining with Kristy, country mouse, no wearable blanket, & dress me like a donkey (NOT)

Today I woke up looking like Kristy McNichol, so that's fun. Too young to remember Kristy? I've supplied a photo. 

Thank you biographypedia for this photo

I went to bed WITHOUT a blemish on my face - note I didn't say wrinkle free or anything crazy -and I woke up with a red circular scratch-like-thing. My mark shows up in the same place as Kristy's. Same size. No joke. 

Coach was like, "Did I do that?" - but not in an annoying Urkel voice (from Family Matters). I'm really dating myself. Rest assured, my facial blip is NOT the result of, well, anything that went on in our room last night (wink, wink). How did I scratch myself and not wakeup? Did something bite me? This morning I thought I'd fallen asleep with chocolate on my face. I tried to wipe it off. 

As the day unfolded, I decided waking up with a mysterious facial mark was a sign. I should've stayed in bed. Here's why:  

I'm noticing a trend this holiday season. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING is taking me at least 20 times longer than it should. Killing me. 

Dad's list:  My dad gave us a list of books he wanted for Christmas. He didn't give links. I saw his list in my email and  I mistakenly allotted 10 min to order him a book or two. Over an hour later, I wanted to pull what little hair I have out of my head. 

My Christmas poem:  This was the earliest I've sent it to the printer. I emailed him a copy late Wednesday night. I checked my email a few times on Thursday morning for his response. 

He's been printing my poem for YEARS. The year I learned that they'd also fold it in a machine for next to nothing, I almost wept. He usually emails the minute he gets it and then lets me know  within hours that he has a proof for me to look at via email. I was walking out the door Thursday evening to Costco when I realized that he hadn't emailed me. Had his business closed? 

I called him. He answered. (Costco trip delayed). Told me he loved this year's poem. We chatted, as we do. His daughter Irish danced back in the day, so  he's a survivor he likes to hear how Curly's placed at Thanksgiving each year. I finally admitted that I hadn't seen an email from him. 

He HAD emailed me - it landed in SPAM. Darn it. Why? That's never happened. I was hoping to get the poems back ASAP so I could stuff them in my cards over the weekend. Foiled. 

Late Friday, I remembered to check SPAM. He'd emailed me AT 9 AM THAT MORNING to say they were already ready. Great turn-around, but now the warehouse where I pick them up was closed. Till Monday. Gosh. Darn. It.

But I was like, no worries. I'll focus on the envelope printing.

You know where this is headed don't you?

New-to-us-gifts:  Before I could tackle the envelopes, I drove all over kingdom come to collect the giant moon chair that I bought for Tank for Christmas. It's gently used - prefect for his future college dorm room. By the time I thought to get him one there was no inventory. Again:  added time, no easily clicking a few buttons at Amazon.  Remember how I had to redo my iPad shopping after that moron Kee decided not to 'reserve' for me. See? My timing trend is real.

From that moon-chair-place 30 minutes from home, I drove another 30 minutes downtown - as in walking distance to Navy Pier, like DOWN. TOWN. I met a guy there with Powerbeats3 by Dre. Wireless headphones. It's a teenage thing. These were new, never used. I waited in my minivan outside his hip building for kind of a long time. Maybe 10 minutes. I wasn't even sure which direction he was coming from because there were lots of buildings . . . 

 . . . someone I know is suddenly sounding like Country Mouse visiting the city for the first time. 

He approached my car. I handed him $55, only it turns out - we agreed to $65 and I messed up. I had 3 singles. He had no change for my larger bill. He finally accepted the whopping $3, shrugged and said no big deal. I FELT LIKE AN ASS. Really, I cringed for most of the 30 minute drive home.

I texted him when I got home and asked for his Venmo or Quickpay so I could send him another $10. He said not to worry and Merry Christmas. I told him it was my mistake and that I really hadn't intended to behave like an idiot. Still, he wouldn't take any digital moola. 

So he's the alter ego of Kee. Grateful that I came across a forgiving dude, since I was off my A game. EMBARRASSING. 

In other shopping/ family news:  I am refusing to purchase Mini her request for a wearable blanket. This girl. She can get way too comfortable in sloth-mode. These are not even cheap - like over $50. And what's wrong with the 8 hoodies she owns?

Photo of wearable blanket, compliments of Amazon.

I got an email from Williams-Sonoma that my mom's gel mat is going to be late. I ordered it on Dec. 3rd. What in the world?

I texted my sister, Marie, to ask if she was going to be in town from Milwaukee or if I should mail the gift I bought for my goddaughter. 

Marie:  I don't know yet. I'm trying to figure out something fun to do for mom and dad. So far the only thing I could think of was to do a living nativity in their backyard for them.

Well, dress me up and call me a donkey, I just didn't see that coming. Marie is a kiss ass, but seriously?

Thank goodness this was a text, because I wouldn't have been great at concealing my response . . . which was WHAT THE HELL? DO NOT INVITE US TO JOIN IN THAT FIASCO. I have to wonder, is it exhausting for her to work so hard to maintain her (perceived, but most likely accurate) number 1 position? Embracing my low rung on the family ladder over here. Gel mat gift late or not, acting out the nativity is not on my bucket list and I'm just not that generous a gift giver. 

Anyone else anticipating shipping delays? Plan to act out the nativity? Oh, the envelope story . . . tomorrow or Wednesday. It's hilarious, promise. Thanks to my friend, Hindsight.