"Work may include battles of will as Metal brings intensity and inflexibility to the day." ~ my Chinese horoscope for the day
We're celebrating Thanksgiving in Crazy Land today. It's our usual comedy of errors. Crazy Employee sent out an email telling us the company is buying the Honeybaked Ham and soliciting side dishes. Owner immediately answered that he doesn't want any Honeybaked anything. He either wants a ham that someone has cooked in their own home or he wants nothing at all. Surprise. No one went home, bought a ham, glazed it and baked it. Mr. Moneybags wonders if Owner will boycott the whole affair. What a naive thing to think for a man who's worked here at least a decade now. The inadequacy of the ham is all the more reason for Owner to be there. Prepare for torture. Owner will spend the entire hour (or however much time it takes for everyone to gulp down their food) talking about how bad the ham is. He will also probably be unhappy with all side dishes. There's no half way with Owner.
I have my own issues with Crazy Land Thanksgiving. About ten years ago, when I was in the depths of my three-year stress-related illness, I summoned what little energy I had to spare to bake a pie for the office Thanksgiving party. I make my own pie crust. It was a lot of work and left me completely depleted. Back in those days, I still felt very emotionally connected to Crazy Land and the people who worked here. See how far I've come?
I brought my lovingly prepared pie and, at the end of the lunch, no one had touched it. There it sat, uncut. A couple of people came up to me and said they were saving room and looked forward to tasting it. No one did. I was deeply hurt. Do I hold a grudge? Not usually, but when I do, I never ever let go.
Since that day, I have never prepared even a morsel of food for any Crazy Land get together. When I opened the email asking people to say what they'd bring, I thought about reviewing this whole incident and informing everyone I'd be bringing potato chips. Yes, I know no one wants potato chips with ham, stuffing, sweet potatoes and green bean casserole. This is exactly my mean-assed point.
When I discussed it with my mom, she suggested that, since I have an extra loaf of sandwich bread at home, I should have just brought that. I could plop it down on the sideboard and dare anyone to comment. Woe to the person who would be so foolhardy.
Then I thought maybe I should have Hubby make his famous chicken tenders. He likes to use unbreaded chicken breast, stick them on the George Foreman grill and press down on that lid until they're so dry that it you can't even cut them with a steak knife. You can chew on them for an hour or so and they still retain their hard, stringy quality. They're like petrified wood. Sooner or later, you just have to swallow and hope no one has to Heimlich maneuver you. Since no one would touch them, though, it would be hard to really enjoy my little joke.
I took the high road. I brought a pre-prepared vegetable platter from my local grocery store. If no one touches it, I can always take it home and eat the carrots and celery, etc., as afternoon snacks. See? I hold onto grudges, but I'm not vindictive.
I'm in a bad mood about the whole business and don't even wish to attend. On the other hand, I have Owner's sarcasm to look forward to, because I know it will put a serious damper on everyone else's fun. There's always that.