Ode to Christmas

Or - Why Do I Do This To Myself Each Year.



Its Christmas Eve eve. 23:13, 23/12/12. I feel ill. Really quite ill. Why am I still up then, you ask? Why? Could it be the festive season getting me so happy and excited that I just can't settle to sleep? Could it be the enticement of imminent inebriation satiable by my parents dosh?
Nope.
Its knitting.

More accurately it's a lack of knitting.

One Panda hat - knit but not sewn.
One fluffy weird scarf - partially knit
One jumper - 1 x sleeve and the collar to go (before sewing)
One dragon - so many pieces to go I don't know where to start.

Stupid season.
Stupid festival.
Stupid Christmas.

I hate Christmas.

(don't get me wrong, I really enjoy mini-Uni/House-Christmas, and I mucho like the sentiment of the Christian festival. It's just the actual day itself that I can't be bothered with. That, and presents. And shopping. And the effort that has to go into all the food. And......... )