Some f***ing Yuletide, huh?

On the upside, I can finally do some actual Christmas shopping.

On the downside, Sarah "Scrooge" Woollcott decided, in the latest of many bad worker-relations moves, not to give us a Christmas bonus. Paid us early, but no bonus. And I paid my cable bill through Barclays, only for the fellow at ntl to inform me that I'm not likely to get it back on until it's credited. Which takes about 7 working days. And this is Christmas.

So now I'm back to feeling like shit again. I hate needing money (about £100 would be nice). And I hate not having cable at home (no, I do NOT want to watch Shrek and Doctor Fucking Who actually). And I hate the thought that the only women I'll be with over the holidays are ones related to me. Not that I don't love them, but I need to be with people who I can talk to and relax with.

Anti-depressants, anyone? More reasons to beg for something of an upper variety:
"Fairytale of New York" becoming the first song by Kirsty MacColl (RIP) that I do not want to hear again ever thanks to rampant overplaying.
Irena's insistence on playing the same stuff over and over again.
Almost everyone else sharing her pissant taste in offensively bland crap that really makes you appreciate John Denver.
No snow.

Hope you're happier than I am. I bet you are.