Have yourself a miserable little Crapmas

Everything is closed and you’re stuck at home with only your family and the telly for company, your jaw is sore from smiling way past the point of goodwill and understanding, the kids are fractious and whining, the dog is wondering why you’re not going for a walk, and you’re eating endlessly – man, you’re eating so much junk; no biscuit is safe.

It’s Crudmas. Crapmas.

There are no pressies, no decorations, Santa has morphed into a barking Orange Clown, the Yanks are stealing all the facemasks, someone tells you Covid-19 is a bioweapon, someone else says get the virus and get it done with, your creepy uncle says you need to sunbathe naked, and then the Orange Clown barks again.

And all the time you’re worrying about the aftermath of all this seasonal madness, about work, about paying the mounting bills, and at the back of your mind is one stark anxiety: will I ever see my parents again?

But also you’re bored out of your skull, bored of everything and everyone. You used to look forward to the random check-ins with people you haven’t heard from all year, but now you’ve had the same conversation so many times it’s like the film Groundhog Day.

Mostly though, you’re bored of yourself, bored and disappointed too, because suddenly you have all this time and that’s what you were always short on – time – and what are you doing with it?

Not reading all those books you intended. Not writing that novel. Not learning French. Not doing that self-improvement course online. Not tuning in to the free streaming of opera from Italy. Not going on virtual gallery tours. Not teaching yourself to play the guitar via YouTube. Not cooking low-calorie nutritious meals – because come evening, all willpower is exhausted and hey, it’s Crapmas, so you eat your feelings while fantasising about takeaway pizza.

You wonder why you cannot control yourself, anticipating a future of self-loathing and regret. So you seek solace in your little garden, revelling in the amplified birdsong, but still you know that around the world people are being beaten, hungry, helpless, crushed together in shanties.

You’re one of the lucky ones. You eat another biscuit.

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