Spooked by Christmas present, but it’s not the end of the world

22 Dec

I 100% believe thisSince the world hasn’t yet ended, another blog. It may surprise you to hear that Christmas is coming. It had at least partially escaped my notice, since a wedding anniversary (mine) put paid to the Christmas party, and it is unseasonably mild (although Southeastern Rail have still managed their standard December ‘go slow’, I was relieved to note). Tuesday’s sudden realisation that the turkey would be in the oven in precisely one week’s time led to a mental gear shift to a different mind state altogether. Blind panic is too strong, but suffice to say, no longer denial.

I went into omni-wrap mode instantaneously (days off! The new ‘overcommit’!) and succeeded in wrapping everything bar a pyramid-shaped chocolate collection (they were a bugger to cover; I had already wrapped four; it was time for someone else to suffer, namely M); and two jumpers (one which I was subliminally coveting, so actually couldn’t bring myself to encase and therefore commit to some other). I then realised that there were three presents unpurchased, so spent a fruitless 30 minutes chasing phantom parking spaces in Nugent Place before conceding and parking just up the road, where there had been the same space clearly available when I drove past it thirty minutes prior.

The Ls and I then went to donate some festive blood before it became too diluted with clear intoxicating liquid (by which I don’t mean attar of roses). The Ls love a good blood donation: it’s the quality of the post-letting snacks, you see, and the fact that with my brain partially deprived of oxygen due to lessened red blood cell numbers I am not as quick to refuse them copious quantities of them.

Yet my guilt in depriving NHS Blood & Transplant of more than my fair share of its snacks when they only take a very meagre amount of my oxygen dissemination system prevents me from having any myself, the net result inevitably being the Ls stagger out sated and I stagger out because I’m about to pass out from blood sugar deprivation. Must try harder; but I figured people would need blood tranfusions in the post apocalypse fall-out, at least while the hospitals still functioned (I’m hazy as to how long that would be).

And to be fair, to date, that’s about as festive as it’s got. New job resolution – try to prevent humiliating myself for as long as possible – has prevented the wearing of L2’s antlers nor indeed my own flashing festive earrings in the office environment; celebratory fizz has mainly been around the aforementioned wedding anniversary not welcoming the birth date of the infant Lord. For me, it just hasn’t begun to feel a lot like Christmas.

No doubt subliminally it has been the spectre of the potential end of the world hanging over us today that has prevented me from letting myself get fully caught up in the festive spirit. Or maybe not, but it’s a good hook. 11.30am today (UK time – the Mayans never specified the end of the world timezone, and as a small sharp and smart boy of my acquaintance pointed out to me today, it could also be 11.30pm) I was in Asda, trying to find pre-peeled chestnuts. Even though the world hadn’t ended, I still felt life was too short to have to peel chestnuts, and the Asda store staff were right behind me.

Best post this now in case that little lad was right; and even if he isn’t, because it’s definitely time for a Christmas drinkie. Chin chin.


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