I've just been out for the first time in seven days. There's still loads of snow everywhere. I just got Hubby to drive me to Tesco's as I'm not brave enough to make the journey myself. It was nice and quiet in there. I bumped into someone I know who told me all about her Christmas, cooking dinner for the 5000, setting the alarm for 5am but struggling to get up to get on with all the work with a hangover. She said she enjoyed doing it because otherwise I just don't get why I often hear women lamenting about how much they have to do at Christmas. What would happen if they
didn't get up at 5am and start peeling potatoes and sprouts. Would it be like in
LOST where poor Desmond has to reset a button every 108 minutes or the world will blow up? Would Christmas come to an end if we put our feet up with chicken nuggets (like Bianca's family in Eastenders... and they seemed to be having the better day) or fish n chips instead of turkey?
Well. I suppose we have a choice. Personally, I prefer less of a hoo-haa but then I did really appreciate the beautiful dinner Hubby made for us. And he did it cheerfully. I can't bear to watch anyone making a martyr of themselves. Especially me... hee, hee!
Anyway. I think a little trip out was just what the doc ordered. One is starting to go a little stir crazy!