"There has been a turning on of the second fridge which is 'full' of 4 jars of mincemeat. this is the only sign of crimbo my dad is full on bah humbug every time the doorbell rings he is shouting FUCK OFF haha and every time i ask to put my crib up he goes very thin lipped. I had to strong arm him into letting me open his christmas cards which he did last year in January."
And a picture of Oxford Street yesterday, which looked completely beautiful while actually, on the granular level, being seventeen simultaneous cycles of hell. I got very sweaty and anxious and failed to buy anything until I ran away to the Japan Centre which was a joyous wonderland of mad sweets and excellent packaging and I am really REALLY regretting not buying myself a matcha panettone because MATCHA PANETTONE.
Finally, this post is an excuse to say I have finally added a (brief, it was a month of falling asleep with my Kindle on face) November reading list, long overdue. Though of course, you should all buy your cake, France, Zola, tragedy, romantic disaster and Belgium LOLS loving family members MY BOOK if you are stuck for a last minute gift, hem hem.
I'm going to lie on the sofa now because I only got 4 hours sleep and the typhus stew of the overheated Central Line has given me a deathcold. What are you reading? Would my dad like it? So far I've only got him a bottle of "Belgian Owl" whisky and that only because the name amused me...