TFIF (Thank f*%£! it's Friday)

I have to say, I have had one of those weeks.. let me rephrase that: one of those months that has brought me to a breaking point. Today is the straw, and I'm waiting for my camel to show up.

Things have just piled on top of me and I haven't been able to compartmentalize, so I've taken it all and shoved it into a tiny little corner, thinking that the anxiety, melancholy and stress would all just magically go away, and I could just pretend to be made of steel. Shyeah.

I think I'm feeling the Christmas push. It's not homesickness really, though I do miss Mamo and Tato (mom and dad in Ukrainian), and Babchya. This will be my first Christmas as a London resident. In our flat, with the mister's family (in-laws that I am very lucky to have, because I adore them). And the good food, good conversation and good wine that will surround me will be amazing, but it will just be different. New and exciting, yes, but different. On one hand I want time to go really slowly so I can take it all in and appreciate it, but on the other hand, I'd just rather get it over with and start a brand new year. I know, it confuses me too.

I'm not a hard-core sentimental (though the mister would probably disagree), but I do long for familiar smells, crisp snow at Christmas, knowing where to go to pick out presents.. just something. I don't know how to react to the holiday yet, which is odd, because I usually really feel it about a week before. Here I'm a bit numb. I'm sure I'll feel it when we start cooking on the 24th, but right now, I'm not really that fussed about it. Maybe it's the moving, new job, new country, having to figure out a lot on my own, all of that all at once, preventing me from getting warm and fuzzy about the holiday..

Blecch, who knows. I won't spend time analysing it. It's Friday, and tonight I will have a night all to myself with lots of Chinese food, bad movies, light some candles and have a bottle of wine, burying myself under a warm duvet (read: probably pass out from too much wine, knock over the candle and set fire to the shag carpet, have really weird dreams and wake up on the living room couch because I forgot to stumble back to bed. Classy.).