Fuc@$ng Christmas Stress

Today was supposed to be beautiful serene and relaxed. HA!

Woke at noon - leave a message at my parents for my mom. Said I would be there at 3ish to put together the IKEA art desk I bought for Charky for xmas.

Talked to nutty ex at 2. He's blah-blah-blahing about how many presents he brought from podunk Missouri. If I had known he was going to spoil her rotten - for the first time ever, mind you - I would have told him to find her the f-ing barbie dreamhouse she has wanted for two weeks and completely expects. Remember that I have attempted to move the earth in search of one, it must be some horrific big ticket item this year because everyone is sold out. Feel terrible that I tried to be reasonable about xmas and I only bought her the desk and the supplies and a cute book that explains artist's lives to little kids. I understand this is a common problem with divorced parents - the noncustodial buys the love and all that bs. I just can't help it that I am a little miffed that I'm the one busting my ass to get somewhere in order to have more money for her and I, and he did it the easy way by popping some poor cripple's cherry who ended up his sugar momma. I remember the days of using men for money - I am proud to say I never worked the sex angle and I was mostly just a nice accessory/eye candy so I usually got what I wanted. Screw you, Cee, for being a whore and making me feel inadequate.

I got my next phone call 3o minutes ago from my Dad. Granted, he's ridiculously stressed, he just found out, after weeks of waiting, that he is getting the major sale of the year that will make his quota. I don't understand why he is so hard on himself - he's received all of the "CEO honors" and bullshit for the past six years or so. They made him a consultant this year because they were tired of doling out his commissions - I wouldn't want to pay some guy 3% of $100 million in crap either, but give me a break. So he threatened to quit when he realized that he hates being a manager and creative input and that he is much better off just motivating himself. I guess when you simply increase your salary by 25% and are missing the big chump change you most likely would do the same.

Sitting here with an absolute horrible case of indigestion, internally bitching because he insisted that I take the f-ing IKEA box home and put it together here. I'm glad he felt that I have enough room in my tiny 900 sq.foot hole in the wall to hide that thing. I'm sorry that his feng shui was upset by my wanting to accomplish it there because of the amount of room, and because I know it is the single biggest thing she'll be getting at their house for xmas. I can't compete with 1k worth of toys from my piece of sh@$ ex. I don't understand why it is such a big deal to hide the thing in their monstrous house and simply stick it in the back of the truck.

I love these people who insist that they only want to keep me calm and composed and happy. I wonder if I would be as successful being a full-time mom, a full-time grunt, and a full-time student with my 4.0 GPA if I was less stressed. I have discovered I am one of those people who is challenged by a nice amount of stress and speed - no wonder I was such a dust bunny (WOO-HOO, SUPERWOMAN!). Unfortunately, by my performance as of late, I am slipping under the amount of absolute sheer bullshit that I am putting up with... it's the little f-ing things that are killing me. They say women handle stress more negatively from a physical perspective. I guess I expect my first heart attack at 30.