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  • Writer's pictureAmber

Festive Failure

It's T minus three days, or two really at this point. I am balancing a tightrope between my decision not to give in to Christmas stress, and the reality that I do actually care what some people think and I don't want them to think I hate/forgot/disregard them (delete as applicable). As Miranda's mother would have it: such fun!

Failure number one - I got out of bed at 10am. I had made a deal with my phone the night before that if I didn't set an alarm, it would update overnight. It didn't, and I missed two hours of productive daytime (but only an hour of daylight, because winter solstice).

Failure number two - apparently it takes me two hours to wrap ten presents. I blame the shiny, shiny satin ribbons from Tiger that lured me in with its 15 metres for a single pound, eyebrow-raising good value. Of course I had to wrap every single item in that bargainous luxury, dreams of velvet and soft tissue belying the honestly not that posh gifts within. This might not sound like a failure, until we reach the next paragraph...

Failure number three - Did not post any cards. They've been written for a week. Most of them are addressed. Some of them are stamped. Did I make it into town to post them? No siree, because of the aforementioned ribbon obsession. Doesn't time fly when you're accidentally procrastinating?

Failure number four - Due to lipstick and errant gloves, I was 15 minutes late to meet the bearded friend for a pre-Christmas afternoon tea, and consequently left him standing in the rain in the ruins of Coventry cathedral like a soggy film noir character. As I approached, head down against the drizzle, I did feel particularly like a spy on an assignment, but a quick glance into the mirror at the cafe later revealed I had in fact just looked like a bedraggled chorus girl, with my lipstick leaking at the corners of my mouth.

Failure number five - afternoon tea. Oh it was delightful, rest assured; the little sliders were juicy and accompanied by hot, chunky chips; the scone was packed with spices and fruit (Christmassy!); the tiny baby chocolate brownie was melt in the mouth. But me? I got tomato on my dress. I got jam in my hair. I got lipstick on all my food, my china teacup, and my chin (did Beardy tell me this? of course he didn't). Refined lady at tea I was most definitely not.

Falure number six - did not get milk, peas, and other assorted required items on the way home, because I didn't want to get out of the car into the rain again. I now have to do this tomorrow, along with the card-posting. Poor card recipients. I hope they at least get to you before the end of the year.

This concludes my list of festive failures for today - just another day in the life of a well-meaning but somewhat forgetful food-magnet of a woman. I could include the purchase of a fluffy hat with ears and pom-pom dangly ear-bits, but frankly I consider that to be a triumph. Here it is as proof:

And so, my friends, until the next instalment. I hope you're having as amusing a pre-Christmas time as I am!

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