There is something sad about Christmas for even the functional families. The celebration of it is far more complex and demanding than even the most lavish wedding. And weddings are one of the most evil things invented by man (or/and woman). They are designed to torture even the hardest and most resilient men.
Weddings are usually set to occur on a date a long way in the future to ensure maximum obsession by the female, if one is involved. Weddings are far more important to them than the subsequent marriage. This is why most marriages end up breaking down.
The annual equivalent for this obsessive compulsive behaviour is Christmas. Luckily the majority of the world doesn’t celebrate Christmas and so there is some sanity left. Those who do celebrate Christmas are subject to the torture of having to achieve impossible to reach targets of performance.
Food has to be cooked and presented to a particular standard and precision timing, otherwise the world ends. Gifts have to be the right ones, otherwise the world ends.
Actually, the world always ends on Christmas Day. Even if an agreement can be reached about who goes to whom on Christmas Day, and who gets relegated to Boxing Day, the world still ends.
It is a fact that most families are actually dysfunctional. Forcing them together once every 365 days is a recipe for disaster. That’s why there are fights.
Heck, if you never play Monopoly during the 364 days during the rest of the year with any of these morons, then when you are forced to do it on Christmas Day, sparks will fly. Indeed, why would you want to play Monopoly with people you don’t normally play Monopoly with?
Why would you want to spend all day with people you don’t normally spend all day with anyway?
And, of course, everybody drinks alcohol, which makes the situation even more volatile.
Nightmare.
Then, there’s the run up to Christmas. Everybody panic buying. Everybody running up huge debts in order to buy the gifts. Everybody overstocking food. By the close of Christmas Eve, enough food to feed a small country has been amassed in the average home. Bizarrely, the shops are only closed for a single day, just 24 hours, and they are open again on Boxing Day. Yet, people panic buy food as if shops will be closed for a year.
Mental.
Many many years ago, I concluded that Christmas was an awful time. To avoid the horror of being expected to perform in a particular way, for it to then all end in tears, I took to volunteering to work over Christmas. That way, I avoided the whole depressing process.
When there was no work available to go to, I’d pretend there was. Instead, I’d just hide at home. And, that’s what I’ll be doing tomorrow. Hiding at home.
England's England 