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Here it is, Merry Christmas

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As I was milling around the house last night I came to realise something quite scary, tomorrow is Christmas. I’m sure that the War on Christmas has scared the holiday into going underground and it has stealthily crept upon me ready to garrotte me with a handful of tinsel.

I dislike preparing for Christmas at the best of times, so when it’s thrust upon me all of a sudden I feel a twinge of regret that I didn’t prepare sooner, say in January. I don’t begrudge Christmas it’s existence more the amount of work that it requires.

Gift buying is a whole post in it itself, but I really like getting stuff and hate going shopping. There is no joy in giving, but plenty in receiving. Following the buying is the endless hours spent wrapping. The average wrap time is 2 hours compared to the tearing off period of a couple of seconds, it is like spending lots of time on building a domino run only to have a cat come and knock it all down.

Then there are the cards, sending pieces of paper to increase the profits of the card companies isn’t my idea of the true meaning of the season. It’s just a way to get annoyed with those people you always send a card to but they provide no reciprocity, like me. Added to this is trying to create a level of people you send cards to, do you include all cousins and which friends fall into the acquaintance category? If I send a card to one person in a team at work do I need to give one to the others? It is much easier to not write any at all.

The house becomes full of torn paper, and the remnants of multiple feasts fill up the bins. This is the one time of the year when it would be handy for the dustbin men to turn up but as our collection is due on the 25th (then the 1st) we are not going to be able to get rid of all the rubbish for a few weeks. It’s not like we have a baby filling up her nappies.

So I am glad it’s not Christmas every day. As I wait for the day to come and go I think I have just got to get through the next few hours at work. Then sit there waiting as we all look anticipating towards the managers to see how kind they are and will they let us off early or not.

I just have to remember, for the next few days I can eat all the bacon and sausage twists I want.

Merry Christmas.

 


Filed under: Autobiography Tagged: Chris, Christmas, Presents

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