Good God. Having moved that oven I understand why those bastards found any excuse not to do it. That was very much not my favourite Christmas Eve evening. Carrying something that could kill you if it fell on you and is covered in grease down four flights of stairs. Campbell and I are both intact. But I’m drenched in sweat. I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
Christmas eve show was intimate in the end. We had a bunch of no-shows. Fifteen full price tickets. No sign of them. That’s a huge amount of money down the pan for them. It left Jack and I with an unusually quiet house, but we were rested and we did it for each other as well as for them and enjoyed it. We even had long silent conversations using the peculiar brand of telepathy that we have developed over the years. “Shall we cut the song?” “I think it’ll hold but I won’t stop you.” “Fuck it let’s just sing it, it’s Christmas Eve.”
There was a fair amount of food left over so it’s all gone into tupperware to bolster the huge pile of food on my fire escape. I’m using the fire escape as a large outdoor fridge. There’s not room in my kitchen and Campbell and I had enough to do already making Christmas to try and sort logistics with shopping bags. I’m hoping it doesn’t pour with rain tonight.
Christmas is more or less made now, barring the food, and Brian is going to show up tomorrow like the hero this city needs and get everybody onto prep in the morning while I’m driving around picking people up. I’m pretty much out of energy after the oven carry so I’m running a bath and I’ll be in bed a good two hours before my habit, which can only be a good thing.
I’m hoping I haven’t forgotten anything. I ran to the shop last minute this evening for biscuits for the cheese. I ended up with fifteen chocolate oranges as well. I should never be allowed near a shop unaccompanied. I am not even going to look at my bank balance until this is all over. It’ll only enrage me.
Two days off. I could’ve spent it sleeping. Seems I don’t work like that. So it’s all aboard for the sleigh ride. I hope it’s a nice bunch tomorrow. It usually is. I’m tired.
Happy Christmas you lovely lot, wherever you may be. I hope Santa brings you lovely things and you have a good rest, or a good time with family and friends and booze and games and all the things that make Christmas christmassy. Anyone else who is stuck, message me. I am sure we can fit a couple more. I’ll be driving around London between about 10 and 2. Hopefully not so long, but last year was an epic journey around the city in my dying jaguar. I think this year will be calmer. So long as I’ve installed the oven correctly and that nobody comes up onto my fire escape fridge and loads up with all my Christmas shopping overnight.