Today we’re, for only the second time as a couple, driving home for Christmas. In the very literal sense. We did it last year and it was great. We’re now doing it again. But yes it is a long way.
We’ve had quite a day. We’ve had quite a week. Which has followed quite a month. Which has been a crazy year. It has been quite something.
Today we rushed around getting as much tedious human stuff done as possible, including a relatively substantial tidy of the office. Stuff that we just can’t get done other days. It seems stupid that we have to sacrifice a major chunk of our day off, and worse, a day off called Christmas Eve, to do this, but such is shitty life.
But we were successful, and the journey home is nearly over, so there is that. And we went on the M62 toll. That was kinda cool, thanks to one of our customers giving us the money to do it.
We’re later than last year. In fact, it’s so late and I’m so tired that I just know I won’t last. My traditions I’ve worked so hard to create over years, the Father Ted Christmas special. The glass of Baileys. The Midnight Mass. The present wrapping. All gone. OK maybe a glass of Baileys. Then bed.
But at least it’s here. Safe and at last. A decent rest. I know families cause stress but hopefully it’ll be OK.
Let me take a final minute to also recognise something else. Today is 12 years since I started blogging. The last two years have been the hardest ever. I increasingly worry that the final post I write will be my last. I don’t get time. I don’t get inclination. I don’t have inspiration. Life is fleeting yet also mundane. I don’t feel the need to mark daily ritual that has become my life. There is nothing outside of my relationships to live for. That seems sad but I think it’s actually the depressing reality of life. We just deny it. Life is truly pointless but we have to live it because we are cowards and shit scared of death. I know I am.
But 12 years of intermittent observation is something to be reasonably proud of. I’ve tried really hard at times, and others not hard enough. I know there’s nothing exciting at all in there despite efforts to the contrary. Back then every blogger thought they were just a few posts away from a book deal. Haha. Imagine how dull my book would be.
I think back to the depressed 19 year old starting his blog. He’s changed a lot. I would offer him advice but he wouldn’t listen.
The story of everyone’s life.
Let me mark the occasion anyway. Here’s to Christmas. And family. It’s why I’m here. And why I return every year.