And no red sheets.

I got us signed up for Obamacare today. A GIGANTIC deductible, but we have no other options, since COBRA from my old job is going away. I'm substitute teaching and DH is a freelance writer. He makes more than I do, but no benefits.

Tim has been putting the lights on the tree for, cumulatively (between tonight and Wednesday night) 3 hours. I shit you not. It's only a 5-foot tree. I could put the lights on AND all the ornaments in under 2 hours if I was allowed to do it by myself. But he's obsessed with the way the light go on the tree. He is so goddamn meticulous about this.

I mean, I knew this when I married him, and if this is the worst thing about him, I'm damn lucky. Except for this time of year, when I want to kill him. (His dad and brothers are all the same way. WTF is so damn hard about putting lights on a fucking Christmas tree? I bet it takes less than 3 hours to put the lights on the tree at Rockefeller Center.)

I'm terribly particular about how the lights go on too. I've done the best I can fixing what my son did, but it isn't right. I have been adding decorations all week and still have another container or two to add. I put all my mom's stuff on, and now will add all mine. It will end up being completely loaded with a wide variety of ornaments. That will delight me. And I won't notice the light wires anymore.

My ears are still ringing from last night's show, which I didn't even think was that loud, so I finally broke down and ordered some ear plugs. We'll see!

My mom was meticulous about the lights, too. Except, after I was 12 or so she wouldn't do it, she'd have me do it and then tell me how I was doing it wrong. Over and over and over.

Oh, wow, full body rage flashback.

Happy holidays!

Yeah. Anyway, my new Christmas tradition is putting the lights on however I damn well please. It makes my inner 12-year-old quite content.

I have to say, my favorite part of the chief of staff debacle is that apparently Chris Christie almost had the job, but then he took his name off the list.

Dude. Dissed by Chris Christie.

Also, the Chris Christie-in-a-beach-chair memes have briefly resurfaced, which makes me so happy. (I think every single one is hilarious.)

I sincerely wish he had taken the job because it would have blown up in record time. Oh well.

Yes, saw the Pence in his chair next to Christie one. They are precious.

I was going to kill my mother, but she got a grip. She invited some neighbors over for cookies etc this afternoon, has barely told me the details, and then when I was helping her get stuff from the attic this morning, she was like, "Can you come up at noon?" People aren't invited until 2. WTF could need two hours of set-up? The answer, of course, is nothing -- she just called and said yeah, 1:30 is fine.

On the other hand, I did make it to the post office and hardware store and fixed the outdoor lights, so now I can just sit. I've barely been home this week, and the place is a pit and I haven't done any decorating at all, but I just need a break. Also somewhat hungover.