Sobriety is low on my list of seasonal wishes and yet, as I grow older, I find myself slowly growing into a more sober mood during this week of festivities than at any other time of the year. There is an inertia; a sense of not living but of waiting. For the rest of the year we have actors, wannabes and TV presenters to do continual smiling for us. At this time of year it becomes clear to me that they earn their money. The lack of a permasmile during Xmas invokes the “Is everything all right?” question. This question is purely rhetorical and translates as “I can’t see your teeth. Are you trying to fuck up Christmas?”. Ingrate that I am, nothing pleases me more than the gentle interludes between each bout of prearranged and predetermined joy and celebration. Let Joy be unconfined – not likely, I think she’s guilty as Hell. No question the goose got fat – just look at its liver!
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