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Tuesday, 20 December 2016

In which the season's joys evade One...

Unfortunately the doors on One's advent blog have remained closed.  Stuck in place with snot.
Yes, Dear Reader, once again One has been struck down with a chest infection that has lain One low in both body and spirit.

I fear I may actually be a curmudgeonly, sour old bat. The Christmas spirit has evaded One completely and all One wants to do is crawl into the truckle bed, pull the counterpaine over One and kip the fecking festive season away.

Still, it won't actually be a holiday for One, since One is required to hump crates up and down the winding staircase at the Purveyor of Fine Foodstuffs, on both Christmas Eve and Boxing day.

One was, in fact, in line for the same depressing fate at New Year, but has been let off the hook due to the fact that One is required to visit Aged P and a gaggle of the Admiral's relations.

'Oh how lovely' I hear you chorus, Dear Reader. Maybe so, for someone who has the spirit of Christmas coursing through their veins, but at this present time One has icy water flowing through One's and is spitting humbugs.

Like a Grinch, I have all the company I need right here under the quilt in the solitary truckle bed.

Bah Humbug, go and boil yerself with yer own pudding.

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