Merry Effing Christmas

Okay, Christmas isn't totally effed. As a matter of fact, it's been a pretty darned good Christmas last night and today so far. . . if you ignore the W factor. Generally it's good to ignore the W factor as much as possible. It's harder to ignore the W factor however when it plays on your sympathies. Then if you throw in the Q factor to ice the situation to play upon your inner rage it just becomes a really effing good time.

About three weeks ago, W was going to help Q move to town from her old place. However, he fell and broke two fingers on his right hand. Scrub the moving mission temporarily which was then accomplished last weekend -- with his hand/wrist in a cast. Yesterday, Christmas Eve, W slips on the ice in the parking lot of his apartment building and breaks his left wrist. N doesn't see the fall but sees W on the ground and goes to help. N helps W sit down in the car (closer than going back to the apartment) and goes to the apartment to tell Q what happened. N calls 911 (Q didn't; I don't know why) then calls me telling me that Q said I need to come pick him up due to what's happened. My workday (only a half day due to being Christmas Eve) is virtually over anyway so I pack up and head out. I am almost to the apartment when N calls again. Apparently, the ambulance is there, and Q needs me to get N as soon as possible as she needs to get to her house to take care of her dog. N tells me that Q said she'd come visit W at the hospital later. I said (and yes, I know I should have kept my mouth shut, but I ain't perfect) something to the effect of "Wow, what a great girlfriend she is." Apparently, she overheard this (or N told her) because by the time I got there and got N in the car with me he told me she changed her mind and decided to go to the hospital.

Q was waiting for a taxi to take her to the hospital. N asked if we should offer to take her. I said no. (I was in full bitch mode at that point and fully realize that I should have offered to take her. So sue me.) We followed the ambulance to the hospital, and I assisted the clerk in getting W all signed in while the EMTs got him to a room in the ER. Once signed in, the clerk took us to W's room. I asked him if he would like me to stay or if I should just take N home. He asked if I had plans, and as I was telling him that I had nothing concrete until the Christmas Eve service that evening Q walked into the room. From there, tensions rose. She said things. I said things. Voices elevated. I felt my fists clenching. I decided to leave before I ended up kicked out or worse, arrested for assault and battery. Santa doesn't bring presents to the county jail.

Oh, there is so much more to this story, but I just don't feel like rehashing it one more time. Let's just leave it at N being upset, me being upset, and both of us feeling like Christmas was totally effed.

Suffice it to say that BJ arrived and helped us refocus. We spent a lovely Christmas Eve attending the service at church then having a lovely late supper. BJ spent the night (he slept in my bed, I slept in the extra bed in N's room), and we've shared a lovely Christmas Day so far. We opened presents. We've had a lovely Christmas brunch. BJ has helped N set up his new Wii. Soon it will be time for me to call W and make sure he's still up to having N this evening as was originally planned.

Hope you're all having a very Merry Christmas (without the broken bones, irate exes, snarky girlfriends, and other assorted eff ups).