This morning I’m starting to look forward to my Christmas holiday. Which is like looking forward to sex with a dwarf. It’s probably better than no sex… but depressing and awfully short.
Actually, I’ve decided that anticipating holidays is the most enjoyable part. The holiday itself is over in seconds, and you spend at least the first five days of it waking at 6am as if it’s a work day (I do, anyway; my body clock is as inflexible and rigidly programmed as a North Korean public holiday).
The Christmas holiday has a special angst, of course. There’s the expense of gift giving… and receiving (“Gosh. A musical sock drawer tidy. Just what I always wanted”).
This year, though, is special. In fact, it’s a triumph. By dint of quiet diplomacy over 12 months, I have delicately concluded a no-gift pact with everyone I know – even family.
The momentous outcome is simply this: For the first time in 42 years, I will be buying no Christmas gifts whatsoever. Yep, you read right. That means no shopping, no queueing, no shit.
So think on that while you’re trying to decipher the inarticulate grunting of a spotty 18-year-old cashier clerk in John Lewis, or hovering over a skid-marked public toilet seat after getting caught short in Tesco.
In horrible contrast to all your suffering, I shall be ensconced at home watching porn (perhaps Christmas-themed – “Jiggle Belles” etc) and stuffing my face with Leonidas’ best.
PS All comedy Christmas porn movie titles gratefully received