After a lie-in to let the hangover go, I realised I was still missing a few things for Christmas - mostly cards and wrapping paper, so made the mistake of driving into town on the last Saturday before Christmas. Fuck. It just took hours. Hours and hours. To do anything.
Got back eventually and spent the rest of the day wrapping, listening to Christmas carols and thinking that things have worked out okay, I guess.
Made some more notes for my 'Grotto' play and watched festive telly, feeling dangerously relaxed...
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