In Between Days

Saturday. Christmas Eve.

Up at 5.30am and on the bus by 6.30 am. No frost, so the walk to the bus stop was easy, no worries of slipping, big sigh of relief here.

Got to work, it was busy, but not as bad as I've seen it previously at Christmas. By the time we left at 4pm it was getting quieter. I think most people got themselves organised earlier, and that's why the shop has been heaving since the end of November. There will always be those that leave it late. Its just a fact of life. There will always be the selfish who don't care if the person serving them gets home to their family to enjoy their own Christmas in time to really enjoy it. Because the emphasis is on serving. Because people like that power over someone else, that you'll do what I say because I pay your wages. Its the sort of control they don't have anywhere else in their lives. 

Anyway, we got the bus and got home without any major incident, not thanks to the bus driver who thought he'd rival Max Verstaapen now that Lewis Hamilton has all but retired. Both of us glad to get off the bus in one piece. We got changed into pj's had tea, and chilled out watching TV. Both of us nodding off after an early start, and bed called. 

I've seem the times we would have partied until the early hours on Christmas eve, those were the days, one glass of baileys now and I'm done. But to be truly honest I wouldn't enjoy it now at all. Its nice to go out, but not every week, and certainly not until the early hours of the morning. Yes. We are both old and boring, but you know what? That suits me fine. Better that than trying unsuccessfully to recapture my youth and looking like a sad old lush, which is in my opinion worse. And unlike some I did have my wild days. Luckily they were before the advent of social media and the pressure to look perfect, and pretending to have fun.