Waiting on Christmas Cards?

I’m putting the world on warning – my kid stole my address book.
No. Really.
Of all the excuses I’ve had for being late with the Christmas cards, this is the best. Because it’s true.
It was a chic black book leather-bound book that almost made me look like the organized woman I’ve always wanted to be. There was space to put in new date pages if I wanted to (I didn’t), space for new pages of addresses in case I forgot to use pencil and ran out of crossed out names from all the divorces (I had).
And it’s gone.
I used to at least have the means for making out that pile of envelopes, whether it took me weeks to mail them or not (it did).
This year, I’m dependent on my memory (pretty poor), the good graces of a few family members with time to read out of their own books, Facebook (hooray for technology) and those little stickers in the corners of the envelope.
I hate people who don’t have time to fill out their return address. You are the reason I was online at midnight entering approximate addresses into the USPS zip code search.
And to all you procrastinators who have been waiting to send me a card with said return address – it’s your own fault yours will be late this year.
I’ve mailed a few – dribs and drabs which I’m sure the postmistress appreciates in her own way. They’re nothing like the 1,500 at once the guys in front of me were toting into the post office when I showed up a few weekends ago (they were kind enough to let me sneak ahead of them to exchange yellow slip for my package – thanks guys!).
An organized woman would have purchased a whole pile of stamps beforehand, been reading to pull them off an affix them to all those envelopes.
See above: missing address book. I’m not an organized woman these days.
But like all good things (and a few bad, if you’ve taken a gander at what they call the Mom wardrobe), I have someone to blame.
If you want a Christmas card this year, talk to my four-year-old. Maybe you can convince her to ask Santa for a new address book for Mommy.

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