|
|
My Christmas is pretty dire. Well, it's OK, I guess - but I am at work, and only have two days off, so that's not very festive. I spose it means I can have time when I don't have to deal with prerecorded yuletide shite in every store you go into, but... y'know? I'm at home again for the first time in years, and feel like there's nothing to look forward to in that respect. The people I care about are overseas, and I'll be hearing present opening by proxy, through the phonelines. Which sucks arse in an incomparable way. And then there's all the other drama that's making me drink and worry more, in a very self-indulgent way. Which ain't good.
So yes, Christmas is a bit shit this year. I've had better, much better.
I do think Barb is winding down a bit, understandably, over the break, though. It's weird; walking in here has been a bit like walking into shops today (it's the 23rd now, where I am) - most people are off and on holiday or something, so it's strangely spacious. |
|
|