Sleepwalking my way through life: Bah Humbug



Bah Humbug

It happens everywhere. Whether it is television, radio or in films; Christmas time always spawns a seasonal special and I am no exception.

The chill outside is thick with a deep grey fog – the flashing blue lights of a neighbours barely visible – but inside I am sunken deep in the warmth of the couch with a glass of Jack in one hand (extra strong, courtesy of mum) and watching yet another film on the TV. The Christmas tree glows softly in front of the window and shelters the shimmering presents underneath.

I think that, whatever age you are, Christmas Eve is the longest day in existence. Despite it only being the Winter Equinox a few days ago, Christmas Eve undoubtedly stretches longer than any day in the year. Hours seem to pass in the space of thirty minutes, and that one Christmas film seems to go on forever; how much longer can Tim Allen stretch out this abysmal excuse of a sequel?

It’s the waiting I can’t stand – the drawn out counting down of the climactic day. I can remember agonisingly long Christmas Eves from when I was younger. I’d stare lethargically out the window trying to will time to move faster (or at least for it to snow a bit) whilst shooing off my mum; yes my presents are all wrapped, yes my bed is made, no I do not want to tidy my room. Time seems to slow to an essential stop – the seconds passing with the slow, rhythmic pulse of the Christmas lights.

And the nights are even worse. I tried to stay up as late as possible with reading and writing and even some drawing until I had convinced myself that I was tired enough to drift off to a peaceful sleep. I laid down my book, pulled the duvet over my shoulder and flicked my light off in a final sighing act; soon it will be Christmas, and all will be well. But no; the next three hours are spent tossing and turning while I nurse the excited pit in my gut.

The child in me runs laps round my head, yipping excitedly of unwrapped presents and full stockings. What did I get? Is it good? Is it big? Do I have to share it? Is it something I’ll “appreciate” but end up hiding in the recesses of my wardrobe? Only time will tell.

Ah, but tomorrow will be all worth it; the frantic – but not too frantic – tearing of gift wrap and the joyous revealing of presents, the surprise when you find something you didn’t expect, and using the well-practised face when you receive another pair of socks. Only mere hours away.

Until then? I sit and ponder if I’ve been naughty or nice this year…
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1 Comments:

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