Pre-Christmas Disquietude Syndrome (PDS)
I've looked it up in the medical books in my expansive library. Nothing. No such thing, but there should be and I've got a serious case of it.
Symptoms: Frequent explosive tears and just as frequent explosive use of expletives that truck drivers would frown on. Shoulders in permanent position about half an inch below ears. Lower lip raw from constant chewing. Overwhelming need for 3 Dutch Bros Kickers per day just to get through it. Did I mention explosive tears?
It doesn't help that my husband has had to work every day since November 1st, with the exception of Thanksgiving afternoon.
Yesterday was the topper! Dogs fighting and snipping (PDS must be highly contagious and transmittable to animals), Amazon order's that haven't arrived yet, emails that state the orders shipping is scheduled between December 27 and January 6 (despite paying $28 extra for expedited shipping). I still have groceries to stock, a couple of gifts to purchase and sleeping arrangements to make. Worried about my sister and niece, worried about my mom and dad, sister-in-law in hospital with possible stroke, grandson still in extreme pain from 5 blown discs that is preventing him from sleeping at night, looking for home for the two precious but powerful pit bulls who I love but just can't keep and, of course, typical nuisances that are petty but distracting.
After we returned from church, shared a quickie breakfast of homemade tamales, my husband headed to work. The dogs and I hung lights, decorated the house and tree, opened boxes and checked lists (not twice but thrice and I don't care who was naughty or nice). Made several lists: To Do (necessary); To Do (would be nice but not necessary); To Buy (necessary); To Buy (would be nice but not necessary); To Be Thankful For (totally necessary for peace of mind and maintaining sanity....oops, too late!)
I tossed out the To Do (would-be-nice-but not-necessary version) but later dug through the trash to retrieve it, then added Hand Sanitizer to the necessary To Buy list.
I let the dogs in and out at least 30 times (each) which adds up to 90 times, added "mop the mud at family room slider" to the To Do list, (necessary) and underlined it.
My husband walked into the house, smiled at the lights and decorations, greeted the excited dogs (who were incredibly relieved to be saved by a sane human). He walked over to me to give me a kiss. I could see him studying me, you know, that husbandly "is-it-safe-to-approach" study that wise husbands practice, much like lion tamers and maniacs who walk tightropes across open spaces between Manhattan skyscrapers and Grand Canyons!
He wrapped his arms around, squeezing tight. He said, "get your jacket, we're going for a ride."
Minutes later we were in the car headed west. He parked the car at a perfect overlook at Whiskeytown Lake. We were surrounded by fog, the opposite shore barely visible through the mist.
He lowered the windows of the Malibu. I got my first dose of just what the doctor prescribed...QUIET! The silence and stillness was magnificent. We sat together for an hour as dusk approached and passed.
When we did talk, it was in whispers. We talked about vacation plans for next summer, ducks, geese and otters. The mist enveloped us in peaceful respite.
Have I told you lately just how much I love that husband of mine?