Dear Santa… I want to be bored

This year I won’t know if you got all excited and guzzled too much fizz while cooking your turkey, or if you looked super cute in the pyjamas that Santa brought you.  I’ll not find out who showed up at Kris Jenners annual Christmas Eve party and you’ll have no idea if I had a cosy moment with my cats while watching Home Alone with a hot chocolate. I certainly won’t read any Daily Mail stories about brides to be who tragically contracted a flesh-eating bug five months before their wedding.

I’m ending 2017 like I seem to end most years, frazzled and desperately in need of a few days lying under a faux fur blanket reading books, having indulgent baths, watching channel 5 Christmas movies and mainlining amaretto and stuffing sandwiches.

My mind is racing a bit right now, which is probably natural with the wedding approaching but I can’t shut my mind off from other things too, from whether I’m going to the gym enough, to when I’ll ever find time to tackle my ironing pile, create the perfect career, have a great credit score, speak to my new neighbours, batch cook every Sunday, overcome existential angst.

This busy old brain isn’t being helped by constantly reaching for my phone, a seemingly endless source of Whatsapp notifications, depressing news headlines and Instagram stories that helpfully provide links to beautiful rugs and lamps that I don’t need but think that I do.

It’s pretty obvious that this gal needs to put down her phone, go on some long walks and get back into yoga and meditation so that’s exactly what I’m going to do starting on December 23rd when my iPhone is going to be treated like an old school Nokia, well apart from a few choice apps ( BBC radio player, Spotify and Netflix, I just can’t quit you.) Google Chrome be gone, see ya later Facebook, Daily Mail consider us consciously uncoupled, babes. You toxic.

If you’re an old hag like me, you may remember times pre the whole, ‘ the internet is your hand,’ thing, when we used to lounge around being bored during the holidays, and would read books, wait for our favourite TV shows ( the French and Saunders Christmas special) to come on and then watch them properly, avidly.

The only time we were looking down while watching telly was to rake through the Celebrations for a Maltesers one, not mindlessly scrolling through ankle boots online in the sales. We’d try on makeup, talk crap while lying on the sofa or a bed, write lists, look through old photos ( OK, I’m getting a bit too nostalgic now,) or we’d be properly bored and do nothing.

I’m totally up for doing nothing, for a little while anyway.

Have a fabulous fizz soaked Christmas darlings, you bloody deserve it xxx

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