Return to pre-Christmas stress
Dec. 20th, 2008 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sawylAnother day of mooching around South London — something now honed to a fine edge — this time in search of cheap laptops and toys. After a long lunch in a faux sports bar, where we stood out like, well, geeks in a sports bar, I decided to call it a day and headed off to Euston to catch the train back to the motherland.
Upon my return, I discovered that the Christmas spirit had arrived with a vengeance, with my mater massively stressed and willing to flip out over the slightest of infractions. So stressed was she that when she announced that we were going to have baked potatoes for supper, I didn't have the heart to tell her that I'd already had a baked spud for lunch. Consequently, I now feel like I never want to see another potato as long as I live, which means that tomorrow's roast Sunday lunch — where the veggie option consists almost entirely of roast potatoes — is going to be pretty purgatorial.
And as if supper wasn't difficult enough, I managed to knock my pater's wine glass over, sending a flood of cheap rot-gut everywhere. Fortunately, it wasn't really my fault, and so the tide of wrath was turned and instead broke upon the rock of my nephew's appalling table manners.
I am so not looking forward to Christmas.
Upon my return, I discovered that the Christmas spirit had arrived with a vengeance, with my mater massively stressed and willing to flip out over the slightest of infractions. So stressed was she that when she announced that we were going to have baked potatoes for supper, I didn't have the heart to tell her that I'd already had a baked spud for lunch. Consequently, I now feel like I never want to see another potato as long as I live, which means that tomorrow's roast Sunday lunch — where the veggie option consists almost entirely of roast potatoes — is going to be pretty purgatorial.
And as if supper wasn't difficult enough, I managed to knock my pater's wine glass over, sending a flood of cheap rot-gut everywhere. Fortunately, it wasn't really my fault, and so the tide of wrath was turned and instead broke upon the rock of my nephew's appalling table manners.
I am so not looking forward to Christmas.
