Post Holiday Breakdown

So, the holidays are over and done.  No, wait. . . is New Year a holiday?  I guess, maybe.  Still, the Big Guy has done his work, the parades are done, and everyone has opened their gifts, so. . . . 

We didn't open gifts, mom and I.  Well. . . there were a few things from other people.  I got a box of 1960s slides from my college roommate's wife that she got from someone on that Neighborhood Gossip thing, faded color architectural photos.  Why?  I guess she figures one set of photos is like another.  I got a spatula from the tenant and my mother got a box of chocolate.  But we bought one another nothing.  Neither of us cared to go Christmas shopping and buy gifts like spatulas and chocolates which we will give up after the holidays.  I was feeling terribly guilty, though, so on Christmas Eve I took mother to Costco and told her to pick out what she wanted, either a smart t.v. or an air fryer oven.  They didn't have the air fryer she wanted, so we got the smart t.v.  I thought it would be easier for her to use.  So we took it back to her place and I set it up.  I spent three hours setting it up because it has all sorts of internet components that required her passwords which she can never remember, so I spent most of the time calling the cable company and the company who made the router trying to figure it all out.  Then I had to register the thing with Samsung.  At the end of three hours, though, it was all done, and. . . "forget about it" as the old movie Italian saying goes.  There was no way my mother was going to figure out all the menus.  So I took it all apart and put it back in the box, then set her old t.v. up again.  Then I left.  I was going to spend Christmas Eve with her, and I needed to do some things at home to get ready.  

What I did was fall asleep in my clothes.  I wasn't feeling well at all.  Bad belly, body aches and weakness.  After dark my mother called. 

"Are you coming over?"

When I got there, neither of us wanted to eat.  We were both sick.  And so, Christmas Eve was an unplanned, unofficial fast.  I'd eaten nothing all day.  Since I can't watch commercial t.v., I found the TCM station and put it on.  We watched "The Bishop's Wife" with Cary Grant as an angel.  Without commercial interruption.  

"How'd you like that, mom?"

"It was too slow.  I need something with action."

Oy.  

It was bedtime.  My mother had Tramadol that the doctor prescribed for her long ago.  We each took one, and I took a Xanax, too.  That should do it. 

Nope.  I couldn't sleep, so in the middle of the night, I got up and took another Tramadol.  

We were both slow on Christmas morning.  There was nothing to do but make coffee and breakfast--bacon and French toast.  It was good, but after that I lay on the couch and fell asleep.  When I woke up at noon, I needed to go home to get ready for the Christmas dinner across the street at four.  When I got home, I fell asleep until three, then three thirty.  At four, my mother called to see if I was coming.  I was on my way.  

I won't bore you with dinner.  It was fine.  Another family from the neighborhood was there, too.  We didn't get back to my mother's house until eight, after which, I went home. . . and to bed at nine.  

And that was the Christmas holiday for me.  Just a side note. . . I still don't feel well, and it worries me.  

There IS one good thing to come this holiday.  I snuck a few posts onto my new Substack account.  I can't even figure out how it works, really, but within three posts, I had someone pledge $80 to my account with a note.  Holy Shit!  I'm a writer almost!  

I won't accept the money, of course, but it lifted my spirits a bit.  I don't even think people see my account and postings, but I have a few subscribers now.  

And I've been giving this away for free for decades now.  What?

I hope your Christmas was better than mine.  I got through, but that is about it.  Now to get healthy again.  

I'll bring back the music later.  I know you are excited about that.  

Ho!