It's a strange time of the year for us singletons. People think we're all going to hit the booze, watch endless trash TV, and sob uncontrollably into our hankies on the 25th, because of course, we must be lonely spending Christmas by ourselves. Tis the season of goodwill and families, and I read yet another newspaper article about sad and lonely single people, I'm sure they churn out the same one year after year.
Ok, so I am getting on a bit, no geezer in tow, no inlaws, and no kids that are going to turn up on my doorstep with their kids, but for goodness sake, I have been living alone for nigh on 42 years. I couldn't wait to strike out on my own when I reached 18, I was off. So I reckon I have kind of got used to being alone at Christmas, it's no big deal.
I feel a touch of bar humbugs coming on. The build up starts earlier every year, and by the time December arrives I just wish it was all over. People ask me if I am ready for Christmas, and I want to scream, I have to stop myself from going off on a rant. I politely answer, 'I don't do it.'
Why do people feel the need to go on a shopping frenzy, it's a trick, Christmas is for shops to make money, that's all. And what happens in January, everyone asks if you had a good Christmas, I smile sweetly and say yes.
Anyway, I have the company of my pusscats, and Ben dog, perfect. Today I admit I did join the throngs at Tesco, to get a few treats for us. Steak for Ben, chicken for pussies, and smoked salmon for me. This happy and contented spinster will have a lovely day, and I hope you do too.
Call the midwife.
17 hours ago