You've thought about starting your Christmas shopping at least 20 times in the past week. You haven't actually started though. That's for December 23rd, obvs.
You've checked the advanced weather forecast at least twice. All of that Bing Crosby on your morning commute has got you dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones you never knew. You envisage yourself gazing out of the window on Christmas morning and shrieking in delight at a perfect blanket of fresh snow. You've forgotten that snow is cold and wet and only ever fun for five minutes.
Christmas sandwiches! You can't walk past them without punching the air in glee and shovelling multiple offerings into your shopping basket. TAKE MY MONEY AND FEED ME HAPPINESS!
Your neighbour has erected your street's infamous 6ft inflatable Santa. His smiley, borderline creepy, scars-of-24-British-winters face bopping in the December breeze is probably more iconic a sight for you than the Coca Cola Christmas truck, and you struggle not to urinate with excitement every single time he appears. Season of goodwill and tacky decorations, we are in you!
You've discussed Christmas traditions with all of your colleagues at work and squeezed in a heated debate about which John Lewis advert is best. Monty, I miss you.
You've lusted over sophisticated, adult advent calendars because you are absolutely a sophisticated adult. Yankee candle? Benefit? The Body Shop? Ohhh wait, you've purchased a 99p kiddy, festive scene one from Asda because 'OH, EM, GEE... SANTA AND SNOWMEN AND FLYING SLEIGHS.'
You feel slightly bitter about the fact that you can quite easily leave the house without opening said advent calendar. Since when were you no fun anymore?
You've heard the question 'what do you want for Christmas?' from at least six of the people you're closest to. You're the easiest person in the entire world to buy for! You realise that they just don't know you at all.
Whilst staring at your blank Christmas shopping list, you discover that you don't know them either. Oh.
You're already getting excited about making your homemade stuffing on the big day. Chestnuts. Cranberries. All of the sausage meat you can find. Bacon. Orange zest. A sprinkling of fresh rosemary. You can't wait for the one moment of the entire year when you actually look like you've got your shit together. You're optimistic that you won't fuck it all up by drinking too much Bucks Fizz at breakfast time. (You will).
You've made a pile of all 24 of your Christmas films and have vowed to watch them all before the big day. 'I just like to smile! Smiling's my favourite!'
You've already lost five friends through quoting Buddy the elf.
Your go-to hot chocolate has suddenly doubled in size. Is that a warm beverage... Or a whipped cream MOUNTAIN? You don't really mind either way. You kind of like your seasonal, frothy moustache.
Every day, you find yourself using this creative, merry addition to the British small talk portfolio. 'So, are you at home for Christmas this year then?' You want to ask if they'll be consuming so much Prosecco at the office party that they'll 'accidentally' have intercourse with 'GEEZA GARY' again, but, instead, you listen with forced intent as they regale the tale of how they've ended up tied to their passing promise of spending the festivities with 'moan-twice Margaret', who they once worked with in Pizza Express.
Yankee candles! You can't walk past them without punching the air in glee and shovelling multiple offerings into your shopping basket. TAKE MY MONEY AND FILL MY HOUSE WITH JOY!
You rummaged to find the Christmas sock selection in the back of your drawer. Those socks are now at the front of your drawer. And the front of your mind. And in front of the faces of everyone who loves you, because, 'look at my socks, aren't they just the best!'
Every high street store has turned into a human oven. Those places are so bloody hot that you're adorning a sweaty brow before you've had time to undo the first button of your coat. 'Am I here to find myself that Christmas tree themed beanie hat? Or am I here to be marinated and served up with chips? What is my life purpose? Somebody help. Please?'
You've decorated a tree, and you loved every second of it. You are a glittery tinsel bauble bandit, and, even though you now leave the house without opening your advent calendar (seriously, what are you?), your heart filled with love and magic as you tangled those twinkling lights and adorned hundreds of branches with cheery trinkets. Your Christmas tree: a shining beacon of joy and hope and opportunity, makes you smile every time you look at it. You are so glad it isn't lonely like the sorry star of 'One, two, three: sing Christmas with me!' All the tree wanted was for somebody to take it hoooooome so it could be snug and warm by the fireplace. You don't have a fireplace, but still, you did a good thing!