Yes, It's Nice, But Do You Really Need All Of It?

Normally, when I have "time off" from something, it's a nice relaxing affair. That sporadic double bank holiday in Spring, for example, consists mostly of me sleeping. Then, when I've dragged myself out of bed at a time closer to when I'd get back from work than when I'd leave for work, I'll sit there and make lots of interesting plans, ranging from finding some cold sausages to how to carve an evil lair out of a volcano without (a) dying or (b) anybody noticing. They're relaxing times, full of dressing gowns, eating beans from a tin without a single care and pretending I'm a multi-squillionaire and going through RightMove/AutoTrader and finding my dream house/car. However when it comes to Christmas, I get more time off than any other time in the year, yet I need a holiday to recover from it! Seriously, Having spent two weeks moving house (which, without a van, was a very busy time indeed) I then ran full-pelt into the fun of Christmas shopping, followed by a bigger national tour than U2. Seriously, I've had to go and see my Mum, my Dad, my Grandparents, my Aunts, Mrs Max's Mum, Mrs Max's Dad, Mrs Max's Sisters and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Or so it feels. New year's eve-eve will be the only day where I have literally nothing planned, and I intend to keep it that way.

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Enjoy Christmas, And All The Stresses It Brings.

T'was the night before (the night before the night before) Christmas, and all across the land, we hear the sound of many people, desperately running up and down the shops looking for something for Great-uncle Geoff, ideally fishing related. Yes, we're finally (almost) here! Christmas is just around the corner, bringing with it a combination of calamities, coupled with cantankerous crones queueing to correctly order copious quantities of codswallop for their kids. After the great Pre-Christmas Salary Massacre, we have lots of lovely family lingering longingly while looking lovingly at your long-cooked Christmas Lunch, long carrots and less-popular lima beans, while lately you lack the longevity to let the lateness of the food lower your lust for life! If that didn't wake you up, then there's no hope for any of us. The Christmas parties have come and gone (where you totally didn't get really drunk, and then forget to wipe the icing off your mouth from all that cake that you totally didn't eat), and some sort of office "Secret Santa" ordeal has been dispensed with. Unless, you only work in an office with two people, that kind of takes some of the fun out of it. Now, onto the important part of the whole shebang!

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Why Presents Are Not Always Worth The Price You Pay.

Once upon a time, many thousands of years ago, I used to work for a well known clothing & homeware chain on the shop floor. This was my first "grown-up" job and, me being me, I did my level best to show off just how truly awesome I was. As soon as someone working full-time handed in their notice, I marched into the Manager's office and told them I'd like to replace them, figuring that it would be the perfect opportunity to go from a part-time dog's body to a full-time person. It worked, and I was put in charge of a whole department, over which I declared myself Imperial Department Overlord. As the Overlord, I made it my Divine mission to make it the best gosh-darn department ever in the history of departments. Again, it worked and, despite having arguments with management who seemed to think that employment laws were mere urban legends, I was very proud of my work. I even made my department the most productive of that kind of department in the region; That's how cool I was!

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New Year... Now, To Get Rid Of The Holiday Rubbish.

So, I had an eventful Christmas. Having completed the national tour of the family, I've been through enough Christmas wrapping to save the world from at least three Geoffrey Archer novels' worth of paper, I've eaten enough food to declare me legally dead, and I've enjoyed a few nice days of feet-up before getting back into the swing of real life. I've already scrawled into my calendar the next few interesting events; namely my birthday in March (hint hint) and Summer!

Inevitably, as I'm sure you have, I've had some presents that brings out the actor in us all. "oh", you say, "it's... lovely" while trying to give the illusion that you really really like them, when really what you're thinking is "present-buying fail". You can normally identify this kind of toot because it only goes on sale in November, and is designed for people to buy so that they can cross Uncle Dave off the list. You know: singing ties, electric games that are played for no more than 10 minutes, anything where the name is preceeded by the word "novelty" etc. I know I've said it before, but I cannot abide these kind of presents; all they tell me is that the person put precisely zero thought into them, however, we all receive them.

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... And To All, A Good Night!

I'd like to start today by pointing something out: when I lived in Broom, our place there occasionally had an invasion of Fruit-Flies. I have no idea where they came from, where they lived or whose passport they forged to get in, but they chose my home to squat in. Didn't even pay me any rent! I occasionally had a stab at resolving the problem by going all Ghostbusters on them, using one of those vacuum-cleaners with the "nozzle" to suck those winged headaches into oblivion. All of this was to no avail, as another generation would come to avenge the deaths of their kin, and it was all rather annoying.

Well, I don't live there anymore, and have moved to a small town north of there. You may remember my long rant about the moving process. Anyway, I'm sitting here typing, looking at my partner's laptop sitting on the side. It has something crawling on it. Yes, that's right, we have a new invader! However, this isn't a Fruit-Fly, it's not a Wasp, it's not even a Blue-Arse Fly.



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It's Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve Eve!

So, here we are, a week before Christmas, and I'm attempting to sort out the "visits" to the family. Ooh, it's a right ol' pain. I've got to see so-and-so on this day, but this-person isn't available until then so I'll have to go and see that-person instead and work my way around, but I can fit relatives X, Y and Z in all on one day. Arg! I'm slowly shifting towards the idea of posting them all a photo of me, and saying "that's good enough", you know, what most people say when the pick up a present for someone when Christmas shopping?

No, honestly, I do love going to see people over Christmas, it's just so much fuss organising it, especially when there's so much other stuff to do: I've got to finish my Christmas shopping in person as Amazon apparently don't sell everything, I've got to build a wardrobe and an office desk, I have some more work to do (I know, I know), I have four hundred and eleventy ten Christmas cards to write, I have to arrange for my car to be fixed as some w~?#{r reversed into it a while ago, and only a week to do it in. And it's now started snowing.

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The Christmas Countdown Beginneth!

Pinch punch first of the month!

It's December, people! No doubt all of you have fallen into that mental advent-calender mode of repeating to everyone how many days until your living room becomes strewn with wrapping paper and you can add a singing tie and "festive" pants to your already ample collection. More importantly, you've probably been counting the days until work breaks up for Christmas. Go on, admit it, you've also worked out the hours, and the minutes, and the seconds, haven't you.

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Has someone seen the last ten months go past?

Good lord, it's November! When did that happen?

Does anyone else get that feeling that the year has crept past them while they weren't looking? I sure do, especially as everyone seems to enjoy saying "xx days until Christmas". Then again, I find myself saying "where did the year go?" every year, so I shouldn't be surprised, but still, one minute I'm basking in the beautiful summer sun and the next, it's that time of year when the fireworks sold for the 5th November are set off. Over a two week period, for no particular reason. at 2am every morning.

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