You Know You're Behind the Eight Ball When...
For the first time in your life, you consider getting people gift cards for Christmas. (Never mind gift cards sound great to you, especially if they are from someplace, like, oh, let's say Borders...)
You already have to take back gifts you bought. Because they are the wrong color. Growl.
You want to wring someone's neck who suggests you can get a set of queen sheets, at least 400 count, for less than fifty dollars. Yeah. Right. (Ha, but you did end up finding them for not much more! Dancing in the aisle of Costco with your partner is appropriate at this point.)
You have been desperate to be in the kitchen and make cookies all day, but you can't stand the thought of making the kitchen dirty, because invariably, your real estate agent will call you and someone will want to see the house in fifteen minutes. Because you know, your damn house is still for sale.
And the final reason you know that you are behind the eight ball and/or totally out of it: You will be talking to your friend about her upcoming trip to Chicago, and how her plans for Monday have been skewed, because the friends she was planning on hanging out with will have to be out of town for a bris. You will say to her, "Yeah, and all the museums are usually closed on Monday, so what will you do with the kids? Monday is a hard day in the city."
And then she will say to you, "And especially since it's Christmas too."
Then you will say, "Oh my GOD! Is MONDAY Christmas?" She will drawl, "Yes, it is..." And you realize that your Orthodox Jewish best friend schooled you on when Christmas is.
So you better get your ass into gear. And stop blogging, for the love of God, and get yourself to the mall!