Why yes, I actually *am* drinking the last of the mini-bottles of Vendange. And I did have multiple glasses of wine earlier at my sister’s, too. But it’s all medicinal at this point.

I managed to pick a gigantic, two-hour-long-crying fight with my mom tonight. Why? Mostly because I’m sad that I’m not with GB, missing my cats, and feeling unappreciated, taken for granted, and patronized by my family. And I’m annoyed that I’m apparently the only child in my family who is compelled to leave her cats, partner, and home to come here for Christmas, and yet (or and so) I’m perpetually treated like a child. No particular reason, in other words.

The argument sucked. A lot. I actually made my sweet, awesome mom *yell back at me*.

I think we’re okay now, but I’m exhausted, a little tipsy, contrite, and wondering how I’ll deal with the guilt of all this later.

And have I mentioned I’m on dial-up?

I’m going to sleep. As my niece says, Merry Christmas Eve Eve, y’all.