The festive season is like marmite, you either love it or you hate it.
In true bah humbug style I am in the latter camp. In an effort to extend some positivity, I do like having a tree in my front room and time off work is pretty awesome. But that’s pretty much where it all ends.
Carols playing non stop in the shops from October, spending good time and money on purchasing presents which nobody really needs, going through the ridiculous decision making process about whose family to spend time with and then ending up doing the rounds to see everyone for fear of upsetting anyone. On the fateful day itself you eat a bundle of food you would never usually eat, drink like a fish, cringe with surprise but feign delight upon receipt of some fairly underwhelming presents, and despite having made a great effort to please everyone, we are given short shrift for not spending the whole day with respective families.
The intended ‘goodwill’ of this season wilts under the avalanche of materialism and over indulgence. Most of the time, I feel bound to eat and drink more than is necessary and grow a worryingly deep attachment to my sofa. Despite managing to achieve the sum total of naff all, I feel exhausted and pretty miserable about the world as those of us who are way more fortunate than others watch adverts on the TV telling us about those who have a hideous life, especially at Christmas. In all honesty, I’d gladly give up the whole of my experience, food, presents and family time included to someone who doesn’t have the same. I know I shouldn’t complain about my lot, but I’d much rather be climbing a mountain or volunteering with street kids in Cambodia where I spent some time early last year.
Is it ok to break with the norm and do something different? I figured if I’m going to get a hard time for doing what I thought was the right thing by other people, I just a well get given a hard time for doing something else.
Christmas rant over. Thank goodness, there’s another 346 days left before I have to endure it all again.