Oh God! Christfarce is nearly here again. I really can't be arsed with it all this year. I haven't dreaded the whole rigmarole of Christmas this much since my Mum was rushed into intensive care in December 1999 with double pneumonia and multiple organ failure.
Yes, I know I have to do it for the kids.
And I will.
Eventually.
But working up the enthusiasm is tough, especially given all the crap that seems to be coming in my direction at the moment.
Can't say I feel particularly cheery.
The only Christmas Spirit I'll be interested in will come from a Rum bottle!
I'm only glad we arranged for my sister to do it this year. Don't think I would have coped with having it here at all!
Can I just go to sleep now please and someone wake me up when its all over?
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