This week it was Christmas, and I can confirm that being away for it is a little bit awful. To prove that this is true, I’ve made a list of reasons why I’ve been semi-grumpy since the end of November:
- Gluttony isn’t as acceptable in countries that don’t celebrate Christmas like we do at home. I’ve missed drinking mulled wine and eating mince pies until I’m sick, and December has been slightly rubbish because I haven’t eaten advent calendar for breakfast every day. And, don’t even get me started on that fact that I haven’t seen a single Quality Street this winter.
- It’s not even cold. I want to wear jumpers bulky enough to hide my ever expanding gut, and I want everyone to know how brilliant I look in a beanie (proper brilliant). Plus, sweating isn’t festive at all. Bore off, sunshine, I want frost: and lots of it.
- I’ve missed spending an unreasonable amount of time and money eating out with friends simply because it’s almost Christmas. Screw the budget and so what if it’s a Tuesday, I’m off for a four course and too many glasses of red.
- Social media is a nightmare. Every time I’ve browsed Facebook in the last 30 days I’ve been consumed with jealousy that everyone is having a brilliantly festive time APART FROM ME. Will everyone just stop going to Christmas markets, please.
- For the first time in years, I haven’t got so drunk and inappropriate at my work’s Christmas do that I’ve panicked for the whole of the Christmas break that I might get fired when I go back in January. I mean, I haven’t really got a job anymore, but you know what I mean. It’s just not as fun when you’re not living in fear.
- My brilliant family isn’t here, and it’s just not the same without our weird little rituals. I haven’t seen my mum getting smashed on sherry while my dad multitasks in the kitchen (drinking ale + roasting potatoes is multitasking, right?). I haven’t been irritated by my spectacularly annoying brother (sorry Luke, but we both know this is true). I haven’t received Christmas presents that are housed in a pillow case from the early 90’s (don’t ask).
- They don’t play Mariah Carey when you’re away, no matter how many times you ask the people working in the hostel/bar/bus station to do so. I mean, is it even Christmas without blasting “All I Want for Christmas is You”? No sir, it is not.
- Also, where are the Christmas films? The Netflix I get in Colombia is missing all of the classics. Why is it impossible for me to watch Love Actually and be consumed with home sickness and loneliness at this magical time of year?
Christmas 2018 I will definitely be at home where I belong. World, keep your stupid beaches and your sunny days. I want grey, cold, icy England. After all, it’s impossible to feel festive if you haven’t got a coat on.