Before I start I want to make it quite clear ‘I do not suffer from OCD’.
That ‘moment’ I just gave you wasn’t just for you to stop fidgeting or the little boy on his father’s laptop to cease jabbing at the keys but for you and the other three folk that I am imminently expectingto login, to consider and accept that fact...I don't suffer anymore, anyway. I’m sorry - are you still tuned in? I said:‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of.. for.. anyway’. Right then, now we’ve established that; let’s get onto the subject in hand, which was... No I DO NOT need a wet-wipe you - yes of course I’ll pass it. Perhaps we should all sit down - then I’ll just find a seat and continue... starting from the beginning. ListsListsListsLists.... er, L>I>S>T>S
Which of us can honestly say that we have never been overcome with an irresistible urge to create at least one? Hmm? Well, that was a rhetorical question, so no need to ponder for too long. Do anyof you know the term for list-making? No one?Then let’s move on. Of course I know, but I’m not here to teach you new words, am I, haha? Why am I here ...? To bring you my personal Tidings related to this season of... Yule, as the title of this here whole thingy tells you. If you do have to read this on a mobile then highlight and scroll carefully to keep up with people on proper computers - and with all due respect to those of you over a certain age, please turn off the radio and television; you know you only fall down if you try media-multi-tasking these days andyou’ll probably end up on top of me. Hm. No, that would never do.
At the beginning of this season of Yule, (which was rather later than usual for me this year as it didn’t start until December), I came across my rather artistically, digitally created and dutifully recycled ‘Chrissie Pressie List’, all glitzy, twinkly and awaiting fulfilment. But, whereas this should have filled me with glee, reminding me of what presents I bought last year and what not to but this it - well, all I need tell you is that it didn’t work that way at all and it was at that point that I found out that my obsession for lists - which I told you, never was an obsession to start with, came to a very abrupt and unexplainable... inexplicable end. I just stopped making them, alright? Do you spend all your time making lists? NO. Do your friends? No.Just because I’m normal now doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me... I was really just too busy thinking and trying to remember... all of you others, put your hands up if don’t need to make lists. SEE!!! It’s not just me...
I suppose you have guessed by now that I did have a bit of a issue with the whole Chrissie Pressie, listie, obsessionie, insanie thing? Oh god, it showed. What am I going to do? Don’t panic.It was nothing really.Nothing out of the ordinary -probably not for most of them anyway - I just forgot who to buy for, mostly... and just what to and what not to buy... and then which of the things that I’d bought I had wrapped but not named... versus those I had given or misplaced... Still, although I won’t know for certain until after Christmas, or some way into the New Year I suppose, I feel confident that all my little Pressie Problems, (as I had come to call them) , are now sorted.
On the early hours of 24rd Dec, too upset to sleep I made my way down stairs... only to be met by a shining light in my lounge, and under my tree amongst a host of presents that he had neatly wrapped was a boy child, radiating goodness and love, my confusion unravelled, fears quelled and my belief in Santa renewed. These are the Glad Tidings I pass on to you this Christmas. As Ambassador for Santa Claus I ask you to relay this message to all those whose lives are dragged down by our mortal leaders: Throughout the year He still watches over us, seeing who’s naughty and who's nice; everybody will get their due when the time is right.
Thank you for choosing to visit theimpossibledream. I hope you have a wonderful time over the holidays & come back again soon.