Feasting fatigue

God I’m exhausted.  Sitting here half asleep with a hot water bottle.  In retrospect, Christmas dinner with my cousins and their upper-crust aunts was probably not the best place to be out-of-it and grumpily pre-menstrual.  The day has been one long meal.  From 1pm when I arrived (breakfast for me) till christmas-gift chocolate just now (10pm).  I do not expect my stomach to forgive me soon. 

Some weird acquaintance from indonesia keeps SMSing me.  Great, he’s nagging me again to visit him.  (And patronise his yoga-retreat business, no doubt.)  I will bite my tongue (hold my thumb?) and not tell him to kindly fuck off.  Personally, I think it’s kinda rude to nag a person to make overseas trips when you know they’re living on a pension.  (Less than AU$300 a week, dear child!)  But I don’t know how to tell him that in a way that’s dignified. 

Unfortunately for me, the gift-giving season is not over yet in my family.  There’s two birthdays next week and two more the week after. 

I’m being so negative.  What’s wrong with me?  I had a fairly good day, I thought.  Somehow the lack of progress in my life seems to really bother me lately.  The days don’t bother me, they’re for necessary work.  But in the evenings, when there’s time for reflection, I get depressed. 

Nobody would let me help out.  My only contribution was presents.  That was depressing.  It’s like I’m just being entertained.  I feel useless.  Not that I feel incapable, just that I don’t have a way to contribute. 

Indonesian guy SMSing again.  Wants to know if my endo is improving.  Correction: wants to know THAT my endo is improving.  He’s a naturopath.  Well, maybe I’ll tell him I’m now seeing a naturopath.  Maybe he’ll stop nagging.  I’m exhausted and I’m rambling.  Time to sign off.