There were so many things I could have written about for today’s WriteMare Before Xmas (WMB4X) piece. Kennedy, the fact that it’s International Disabled Persons day to name but two. But as I sit here now, not in the greatest of moods. I figured I’d use my melancholy.
I am aware lots of people hate Christmas. Lots of folks really love it too.
Guess which camp I fall in. Yep no surprises. So why am I writing this piece in November, well if shops can have Christmas stock in place by September I can write about Christmas whenever I damn well choose. The shops is a good enough place to start too. I am a single guy, I do my own shopping. Sometimes all I pop in for is a pint of milk, in early September I have to turn into some tinsel hoping, mince pie dodging hurdler just to get a pint of the white stuff. Why? Christmas point of sale displays popping up more often than the penis of an average teenager who is thinking.. about anything.
I wouldn’t mind if it was good stuff either. It’s all tat, overpriced overdraft inducing tat that everyone is guilt tripped into buying.
My house is a Christmas free zone. At least it is until I turn on my TV. Specials from Christmas past, present and future. I know it’s Christmas, I’m trying to avoid it thanks, additionally I know you filmed this in 25 degree heat in the summer in the Kent Countryside, so fuck off, get off my TV and stick your fake snow up your arse. Only safe haven is On-demand.
Work. I hate my job, I hate it at Christmas, pressured into parties with people you want to kill because “it’s Christmas” Also there is the actual work too. No-one does anything, which I have no problem with. However I have to report on people doing nothing by producing stats which people don’t read usually let alone near Christmas. So I have to cover people on leave and produce my normal level of work. Hardly comfort and joy.
Beer. I like a nice pint of real ale in a nice country pub. However around Christmas any pub that is any good is packed to the rafters. Full of occasional drinkers on “house white” or “do you do mulled wine?” again because it’s Christmas. Result being nowhere to sit, meaning no beer for me.
Family. I love my family and extended family which includes my friends. But, no family is perfect, so any fuck ups you have made in the last 20 years, which can be managed or swept under the carpet always rears it’s head at Christmas. Even if it’s nothing serious for you (lucky) there will probably be some git who doesn’t like their present. You spend december walking on egg shells probably for something you can’t even remember. You can’t tell them to fuck off either. Because it’s Christmas.
Christmas blog articles. People with no original ideas writing about Christmas like it’s something special even as early as November….
Visit the blog of the Resident Weeble. Send him a Christmas card. I won’t be.