Chrissy Washup
Mood: Meh
Christmas.
The good:
Nicky had a lovely day, running around in Miss Tinks fairy costume - she looked beautiful. She rode her new bike around everywhere, and ate nothing but chocolate for almost the entire day. She had people who loved her fawning over her, and Santa was very good to her.
My grandparents were happy, (both sets) that there was no washing up to do, that they could have a hot dinner served out to them, and that they could have a glass of wine with lunch. Oh, and that they could spend the whole day with Nicky.
Santa was good to me - new jarmies, earrings, necklace (marquisite - the only thing I wear other than rose gold, which, really is ALL I wear. This gift really surprised me!) and of course a new watch band from the da na na naaaa Sexy Watchmaker. (I'm excited about that one!) Shane got me a gift, even though I'd told him not to repeatedly - the lad just doesn't listen. But it was very nice of him, a lovely photo frame and a set of candles in a pewter holder.
Mum and Dad shouted themselves a new camera and spent most of the day trying to wrestle it out of the hands of my younger sister - who made a hilarious video of the post Christmas lunch snoozefest. She's just a really talented comedienne.
The bad:
My sister. Can't even be nice at Christmas time. She had a wonderful time laughing and joking. She didn't speak one single solitary word to me all day. But she had a fantastic time with Mr. D. and Nicky, peppering that with death stares directed at me. The hatred eminated from her in tangible waves.
Mr. D. arrived half an hour late to open Nicky's presents with her, and spent pretty much the entire day sleeping, or attempting to sleep, because he went out with his mates on Christmas Eve. The only time he perked up was to talk to my sister. That pissed me off no end. Christmas should be about Nicky. Not about how much time he can spend nursing his hangover, or discussing how he got it. We all know how he got it. By not thinking about his responsibilities, thats how.
I was home and alone by 5.30pm, which was good, because I was really angry. I was calmed down and in my jarmies by 8.30pm - I spent the time in between with the hose and the pruning shears, communing with the much neglected garden.
The Washup:
I learned two very valuable lessons.
- Don't prune angry. (Sorry Daisies)
- 3 hours is the longest I can sit in the same room as someone who hates me.
They say you should learn at least one new thing each day. I learned two, so I guess by "their" standards, I must have had a good day!
