So I only have about 30 minutes to write this and upload it so the usual brand of typos and grammatical weirdness will ensue.  However you have posts about: A Christmas Party, working at student radio: Christmas edition, a Frank Turner gig review, and a mystery adventure day, all to look forward to so hopefully that makes up for this rushed beginning to the week.  

I want to quickly confess somethign to you that has been weighing on my mind.  I have not been feeling ultimate Christmassy yet and I think I know why.  I do not have a chocolate advent calendar this year.  I have the picture ones, one lovingly coloured in by my friend Ella, but as for sweet treats, it’s only if I buy chocolate cereal.  Now up until the year before last, my mum had bought me and my sister (and the dog) an advent calendar because I was at home most of the time.  Last year I was in a different country and this year, we had The Conversation. 

The conversation went something like this: 

Me: Hi Mum, how are you?

Mum: I’m good thanks.  I have somethign I want to tell you.

Me: *fearing the worst* Go on…

Mum: I’m not getting you an advent calendar this year

Me: *worse than I thought* Oh,  okay.  That’s fine.  

Mum: It’s just you’re 20 years old, you can probably get one for yourself.  

Me: Yep.

Mum: Are you okay?

Me: *decidedly not okay* I’m okay.  

Spoiler alert: I did not get one for myself.  Completely forgot about it until December 1st in fact.  

It’s not that I’m ungreatful for the ones I have, they’re lovely, but there’s still something illicitly fun about eating chocolate before breakfast.  It’s also really weird.  I am an adult, I could eat chocolate for breakfast if I wanted, but I don’t because apparently that would be odd unless it’s specifically 1st-25th December.  

I suppose I could buy a packet of Rolos or something and eat one every day but that requires a sense of restraint I don’t think I possess and I don’t think eating an entire packet at 8 in the morning is in the true spirit of the thing.   Worth a try though.   

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