Mehry Christmehs

I went into the Christmas season in fear. Not because of covid, but because of my social life. Somehow I’d agreed to go out 9 days/nights out of 10. At 41 years old. Oops.

Of course, this didn’t actually happen. Some gatherings were cancelled, most work things were cancelled (except the one where I got covid). I even pulled out of one gathering without being prompted – and normally I turn up to the opening of a fridge if invited.

Hell, I even pulled out of going for a roast dinner on the last Sunday before Christmas, just to try to avoid getting covid.

The fear of not being able to cope with going out so much was replaced with the fear of getting covid – not because I was bothered about the virus but because I was bothered about ruining Christmas.

Yet I still went out and had some fun – I figured that there was no point in not doing so, because my housemate is a musician so was still going to her gigs (those that weren’t cancelled anyway), and my family were still going out and doing stuff – so any of us could catch it and “ruin Christmas”.

Alas, last Sunday I started feeling unwell – I assumed it was because I’d had a bottle of wine the night before, but did a test anyway. Immediately the test strip went positive – I’d barely even finished dropping the solution onto the spot.

At which point the energy, spirit and life just drained out of me – a weird feeling that I cannot compare to anything. The feeling that I’d got covid, after a month of eating unhealthy/drinking too much, so not with my body’s full defences and therefore who knows how bad I’m going to get, and of course, I ruined Christmas.

It’s only delayed

Sorry, I delayed Christmas. Covid delayed Christmas. Hell, Boris Johnson delayed Christmas. Well, not really sure I can blame him this time but I will do anyway as he is a useless, cheating, lying cunt.

I kind of expected to be pretty miserable and morose today, but I’m actually fine. Not overwhelmed with joy, but I’m fine. I’ve got the house to myself, I’ve got beer and wine, I’ve got food in the fridge, I’ve had a zoom call with my family, and one with a bestie. I’m too old to use the word “bestie”, aren’t I?

It’s also made me think a little more about those who don’t have anyone for Christmas. Not that there is much I can do about it, but I’ve thought about them.

I’m already thankful for those I do have in my life, of which I am very lucky. Not sure I really deserve all the treats sent to me – Bad Brownie, sausages rolls, Spanish pigs in blankets, Colin The Caterpillar faces – some of my absolute favourite treats.

And I have a thick rib-eye steak for dinner tonight. I might even make roast potatoes to go with them. I might even make too many roast potatoes so that I can eat them tomorrow, with some slightly browned water over them, to replicate a miserable roast dinner in London.

Plus I had a pie last night. Which took me over 100kg for the first time since the first week of January – I’ve been eating so much unhealthy food recently. Not sure how much longer I can be this obese without getting serious health issues. Next year I’ll sort it out. Yeah. No I won’t, will I?

Pie was excellent though. Chicken, leek and smoked bacon. Cheers M&S.

Yeah I had more broccoli than that. Oh and shitloads of thick gravy. Alas, as much as I thought that would get rid of the remaining vestiges of covid so I could get the train on 27th on early release – I’m still testing positive. Mehry Christmehs.

Oh and today I smashed my phone screen today. Mehry Christmehs. But that’s fine as it is 4+ years old and I’d already promised myself one once I’d lost 2kg – you know, to encourage me to lose weight.

Alas, I’ve put on 4kg since my promise.

Well that will do. Christmas 2020 was actually better but today is fine and I have a steak to come.

Happy Saturday. Feel my Christmas joy.