So Christmas day came and went and I wasn’t really bothered with it. As a child I used to buy into the magic of it all. Not that Santa ever paid a visit, because growing up in Belgium, I got presents from St Nicolas on December 5th. I think it was mostly because there would be something good on the telly which could be enjoyed by the whole family and we’d eat festive food. Some of it quite quirky, like hot chocolate and a mountain of pastries (a.k.a. danish) for dinner on Christmas eve. Maybe my family was (is) just weird.
Anyway, I spent Christmas day not doing much for most of it, just hanging out at home in sweatpants and an old t-shirt, binge-watching Supernatural (I’m only getting into that show now). Then near the evening I all of a sudden decided I should get some work-work done and I made the trip to the office, where I propped up my ipad to stream some episodes of Escape To The Chateau while I tinkered with product images for some hours. On my way there I grabbed something to eat from a Newsagent’s (they actually don’t have any newspapers or magazines anymore, it’s just food!) and when the guy at the till saw the tattered stated of my old re-usable linnen carrier bag, he spontaneously gave me a new one for Christmas… Dear diary, are people starting to take pity one me?