Can I refill your eggnog for you? Get you something to eat? Drive you out to the middle of nowhere and leave you for dead?

Every year, I handle the Christmas season well, until about December 23rd.  From that morning until the end of the late Christmas Eve service, I am a woman on the edge.

On.
The.
Edge.

That’s when all the presents are bought, but not wrapped, and the homemade gifts are on their last, most difficult, most curse-inducing legs.

Typically, the beauty and majesty of the Christmas Eve Candlelight service refocuses me and gets me back into the spirit, but not this year. It’s 11:40, and I’ve taken a break from wrapping a few last minute gifts and the accompanying curse words to write out this little ditty.

The BFF called today to regale me with tales of in-laws of the crazy sort, and I commiserated with her in that we both have a strong desire to take down everything Christmas-related and open up a bottle of Jack together as the only sane people around right now.

I told her the entertaining tale that led to a text I sent her today that was as follows:

Christmas Eve. Walmart. Enough said.

And, yes. I was the crazy lady wandering through Walmart on Christmas Eve in fleece sweats, that clearly hadn’t brushed her hair yet for the day (at 2pm), and singing loudly to whatever was currently being played over the loud speaker.

Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer (Reindeer) had a very shiny nose (Like a lightbulb!)

On the edge people, on the edge.

As of now, all but one present is wrapped. That one present is still being created. I bought The Uncle the audio version of Larry McMurtry’s celebrated classic tale Lonesome Dove, also known as the-longest-book-ever-written-are-you-kidding- me? Putting the book on CD for him to listen to during his travels in far West Texas has taken over 24 cd’s right now, and that doesn’t count that part 3 and part 5 keep screwing up, so that’s ten cd’s right there that aren’t working.

On the edge, people. On the edge.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll wake up and take the eleven year old sleeping at my place over to the Place of Christmas Festivities and before one present can be brought in from the car, I will have a glass of wine and with a splash of orange juice in my hand so.help.me.Gawd.

Even if it is nine in the morning.