Out with the old

WELL, the best made plans and all that jazz. Instead of welcoming the festive spirit in a winter wonderland I found myself with my head down the toilet with winter pine for most of the time.
Yes, along with the tinsel, mistletoe and turkey we also have to embrace the fact that fevers also come out for Christmas season. And, for the record, my ill-health was in no way linked to festive spirit of any kind.
Tied to being near a receptacle of some description, I decided to seize the opportunity and transform my house into a grotto even Mr Claus would be proud of. I’ve ploughed through too many Christmas features here at work not to be inspired.
Unfortunately, half way through the merry metamorphosis I realised I’d been a little too ruthless last year when throwing out decorations that’d ‘had it’, on the understanding I would have a whole year to buy new improved trinkets.
The truth is I just haven’t been feeling too Christmassy yet, whether due to my ill-health or the fact that Christmas fever starts far too early.
You can definitely feel it at work. If someone isn’t talking about the Christmas night out, it’s shopping, cards, presents, or plans. In one particular case all things Christmas are taking over the desk of a colleague, with a vengeance.
Excitement has been building since the aforementioned annual night out was booked in July, and will be approaching climax soon.
I’ve purposely reminded myself of Christmas 2001 as a warning. After consuming copious amounts of festive spirits, I somehow convinced myself I’d been sacked, phoned my friend to tell her I was moving into the phone box I was calling from, and was found an hour later asleep in my living room with Fairytale of New York on repeat and a chocolate biscuit slowly melting down my face.
The turning point this year was when I turned on the TV to see the closing scenes of Homeward Bound. As soon as these feel-good family films come on, you know it’s time to get excited. And so I let rip.
Christmas has never been as good as when you were a kid. It’s been great, yeah, but just not in the same way. Take a moment to remember how excited you used to feel waiting for everyone else to waken up.
We weren’t allowed to go into the living room until everyone was up, and the rest of them had a very bad habit of not wanting to get up, presents or no presents.
When were finally let in, everything looked so magical and shiny. I realise now that was because of my sleepy eyes but I prefer to think it was Christmas sparkle.
I remember being adamant that I once heard bells jingling past my window. I now have visions of my mum scaling the back wall of our house just to fool me.
Along with all these materialistic points of the festive season, it is also important to take stock along with the stockings.
It is the season to reflect on past years and the memories, happy or sad, which surrounded them, as well as the year which we are just leaving. I feel it’s the time of year to spend with loved ones. Christmas Day this year is at mum’s with my family.
New Year is to be spent with my fabulous friends.
For some of them it’s going to be a Christmas with a difference. Two of my friends will be newly single, some are spending it in a new home, and on the other side of the world another friend will enjoy her first Christmas Kiwi-style on the beach.
Another couple are to enjoy a Scottish Christmas after the Sydney beach experience last year and my bridge and groom will be spending their first as man and wife. For another it will be their first Christmas with their new bundle of joy.
You can’t help but wonder what 2005 will bring? One thing’s for certain there will definitely be January sales to count on. My best bargain so far is a £5 Christmas tree which is currently adorned by red and gold baubles.
Before the end of 2004, get rid of any deadweight, resolve any arguments worth resolving, learn from your mistakes and tell the people who matter what they mean to you.
It has taken a year, but I finally rode the post-spew wave to tell Mr Can’t Attach, Won’t Attach that he wouldn’t have to bother. I feel surprisingly lighter already — which makes me think that I am actually genuinely feeling I really can detach. Or perhaps it’s because I haven’t eaten for 48 hours.
I shall leave you, and 2004, with this thought: Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.