Christmas Eve

I did go out with my friends last night, but I had trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve's Eve.  I get up at eight every day, normally, and I think my brain is still trying to get me up at that time.  In addition to that, the neighbor's got this really awful dog.  My parents refer to these dogs as yippers, and I probably don't have to tell you what it is about this dog that was waking me up twice in the early morning. 
I shouldn't make excuses as to why I was so grumpy.  I was trying really hard not to be, but I get depressed at Christmas.  Without fail.  I can't remember a Christmas after my middle childhood that didn't get me sad somehow. 
I tried to get some things done, and then my Mom and sister wanted to go to the hospital to visit my Grandma.  I wanted to go too, so I came along. 
My Mom and sister decided they needed to go to a craft store, so I got dragged along.  While we were in the parking lot, I saw someone I went to school with years ago.  I don't think he saw me, thankfully.  I don't know what he's doing, and I luckily am not half the loser some of our fellow students have become, but I hate to rely on gloating.  Even if we could argue I deserve it. 
My Mom and sister spent a long time looking at frames and posters.  I think they originally went in just to exchange something and turned into a redecorating of the bathroom.  This happens a lot when they shop and I've learned over the year to keep myself entertained.  This time I wandered around a bit, focusing on candles.  Candles are one of those things I would use if someone else bought them for me.  I am loathe to spend the money myself.  I am even more loathe to spend my time sticking my nose in a bunch of dusty jars filled with colorful wax. 
I realized as they were checking out that it was 1:30 in the afternoon and I still hadn't had anything to eat.  I tried to remember my last meal.  Madison and I had split a basket of sweet potato fries at the bar last night.  That was it.  That was my last "meal."  I eyed the rootbeer-flavored candies.  They were appealing. 
We finally got to the hospital.  My Grandma was in the room, trying to sleep.  She was awake, but she refused to open her eyes, a normal tactic she likes to use.  We tried to get her to at least talk to us.
A few weeks ago, Faith had given me one of those headbands with reindeer ears on it.  I wore it at a Christmas party, and now I put it on in the hospital.  Even though my mood was souring, I was trying not to get upset. 
When my Grandma finally opened her eyes for more than a minute, she said "What the hell is that on your head?"
That's what she's like.  On a good day. 
She then decided she didn't want to open her eyes.  Then she was moaning for us to give her water to drink.  She's recently taken to ordering us to give her water, even though she can get it herself.  She also started ordering me around to wipe her face.  We're trying to get her out of the hospital and she won't do anything to help herself, since they try to determine if she can take of herself to place her in the appropriate kind of home. 
I went to the cafeteria to try to find something to eat.  I wandered around and saw nothing I wanted.  I have had so much sugar lately just the thought made me sick. 
I went back to my Grandma's room.  They were trying again to wake her.  She wasn't cooperating.  I suggested maybe splashing a little water in her face, which my Mom did.  My sister and I tickled her toes.  This mostly didn't work. 
She has a tv in her room, and I started looking around.  I found Criminal Minds, and this cheered me up disproportionately.  I squealed.  The sound wasn't that loud, but it scared my Grandma enough that she kept her eyes open for five minutes. 

I have recently taking to calling my love, Matthew Gray Gubler, the hottness.  Obviously if you've seen him, you don't need me to explain why I call him this.  My parents have started teasing me, because they think it's ridiculous. 
I tried to watch my show.  Nate texted me, saying Merry Christmas.  I was a little surprised, since Nate is Jewish, but I considered that maybe his family did secular Christmas celebrations.  We chatted a little via text messaging.  He said that his family was having tacos for dinner, which made me laugh and made me realize they really weren't doing anything special.  (Which is fine, because really, they don't have to.) 
Because Nate is part of a particular group of friends, I started thinking about those people.  I really wished I was celebrating Christmas with one (or more) of them instead of being stuck in this hospital, trying to bring Christmas cheer to my Grandma who not only was rudely ignoring us but not even trying to take care of herself enough to get out of the hospital. 
I texted Paul.  I almost called Paul to tell him that I missed him and explain this recent episode of my life.  He puts up with a lot from me. 
But I hesitated to call.  Paul's got family too, probably lucky enough to have the unselfish kind, and interrupting their Christmas celebrations is unfair.  I texted him "Merry Christmas."  Maybe if I was lucky he'd call me?  If not it meant he was probably busy. 
In the meantime, my family was in and out of the room, taking care of things for my Grandma.  I was left in there to watch her.  A nurse came in and started measuring her vitals.  My Grandma opened her eyes long enough to insult the woman's hair, which was tied back in a ponytail with a headband.  It looked absolutely fine, but my Grandma does this all the time, and this is part of the reason we have a hard time getting her help: no one wants to do something extra for an old woman who showers abuse on people.  I berated her for saying that. 
Then someone else came in to change her diaper and she peed all over the bed while all the sheets were gone.