Beattie Can't Sleep and is Living in her Own Christmas Wonderland

I can't sleep. It's quarter after 5...in the morning. I'm kinda tired, but it's just not happening. I worked all day and got home to a house complete with a water-drained Christmas tree, devoid of all ornaments and lights. While watching like 4 hours of tivo I decided it's a dandy time to ornament the tree...which is a huge step for someone that procrastinates in every situation under the sun and hates decorating the family tree...this may be one reason why I schedule coming home for Christmas the day before so I don't have to do any decorating...
So...I untangled about 8 strands of lights (which all worked, an odd factor considering they were buried under hockey equipment and basic crap in our basement/garage) while watching Days of our Lives. I don't and I mean DON'T want to get sucked back into that show. Cause it's pretty gay. I did watch it while stringing up lights. After which I broke two glass ornaments and have decided that someone like me should stick to the crappy plastic ones that look like ass but that are joy-proof.
I will take this opportunity to tell the 5 people that access this site that as I was working, I noticed my bloody knees. Damnit.
I went to a holiday party a co-worker threw on Saturday and got rocked. And I mean rocked. I am not drinking whiskey anymore. It's going to be tough, but I haven't gotten a bloody knee in awhile, but I woke up on Sunday with a riproaring hangover and two bloody knees. And they won't heal. And now all my jeans have blood marks on the knees and I wince in pain whenever I kneel. (Insert jokes here, which coincidentally I have been getting all week). Apparently I left the party with a Manhattan that I made myself...so it was pretty strong I am assuming. And while drinking in the cab I felt the need to throw it at Geoff...like the whole cocktail. Damnit. And I apparently spit in his drink earlier in the evening. I guess I am a bitch when I drink whiskey...So no more for me. But in my defense, I don't remember anything. Although it started coming back to me after Geoff described me in all my insanity...shameful.
So. As karma would have it I struggle to do any kind of work that involves my knees. And I don't mean that side job on the corner. But despite the bloody knees, my Christmas tree is decorated, I got a REAL wreath for the front door and I wrapped my one and only Christmas present. I feel very Martha Stewart. Now I just have to get the blood out of my jeans and sheets from my stupid knees and I'll be dandy.
So for any of you reading this that is buying me a Christmas present, I'm sticking to vodka and will consider getting a tattoo with a disclaimer that I am not responsible for anything I do after consuming dark liquor.