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Thursday 28th December

It seems that the stresses and strains of Christmas have got the better of our refrigerator. The milk’s was off this morning, and the leftover cream from Christmas Day had turned into what can only be described as cottage cheese.

Mother has spent the whole afternoon choosing a replacement—she has some catalogue she can get a “big” discount from, and apparently this is incredibly exciting.

In the end she’s gone for what appears to be exactly the same fridge she had before, so a day well spent. It arrives tomorrow.

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Wednesday 27th December

The hangover has finally relinquished me from its cruel grip.

Today my older brother, Mark, came to visit. He spent Christmas with his girlfriend’s family at their massive house in the Cotswolds. He says it was great—I can guarantee it was better than ours anyway.

Mark is the only one in my family that I could believe I am related to. He drives a BMW and runs his own business selling computer software to small businesses. He’s really good at this because he’s good at convincing people they need things that they don’t.

Mark took me, Mia, and my Mum out to the sales today while Dad stayed in and caught up on the Ashes. I don’t see the point really—England have already lost, why prolong the pain by watching? I told him as much, but he didn’t seem too bothered about staying in on his own and watching it all afternoon.

With some of my Christmas money I have bought a new bottle of gin, which I will certainly need to get through the next couple of weeks before I can get back to university.

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Tuesday 26th December (Boxing Day)

That’s it, I have decided I must be adopted. Christmas Day spent with my family has convinced me—there is no conceivable way that I represent a branch of the same tree as that bunch of gormless, braindead louts.

The day began with the usual ritualistic unwrapping of presents. I was wrenched from bed at an ungodly hour by my little sister, Mia, and forced to sit around in my pyjamas with everyone else like patients on a mental ward. This was despite my protests that I would much sooner get dressed first: I forgot to pack any nightwear when I came back from university and so had to suffer the ignominy of my old Simpsons pyjamas that are now several sizes too small. Not a particularly thrilling start to the day.

No exciting presents to speak of, a reasonably standard haul including:

Toblerone (nine triangles instead of the old thirteen, a downside of Brexit)

Lynx deodorant and shower gel set (flavour: Africa)

£10 National Book Token

Cadbury’s selection box (the finger of fudge has been replaced with an Oreo chocolate bar. Oreo. Chocolate. Bar. What is Britain coming to?)

Socks (pack of five, black)

Cash (£31)

Christmas presents seem to become less fun each passing year, and I’m only 18—I dread to think what I’ll get when I’m middle aged. Probably just the socks.

Mum dragged us all along to church, and as soon as we arrived home the Terrible Twin cousins turned up, with Aunt and Uncle in tow. Sat down for lunch: turkey dry as ever. Mum even managed to forget the bread sauce, which we found in the microwave this morning.

Finished lunch just in time to hear The Queen’s Speech. Everyone seemed to think I was joking when I said I wanted to watch it—the lack of patriotism in our household is staggering.

The afternoon was spent in a fug of charades and other such “fun”. I had no option but to get steadily and seriously drunk, especially once I’d taken my turn at charades and no-one managed to get my fine portrayal of Homer’s Iliad. Twins (Ryan and Kieran) are noisy beyond belief, I don’t know how Aunt Barbara manages them seven days a week.

I must have become more drunk than I intended, as the rest is a blur that includes a turkey sandwich, a game of blackjack, and the Oreo chocolate bar I so despised above. I must admit, to my shame, that it’s actually nicer than the finger of fudge.

Boxing Day itself has been spent nursing a very serious hangover. I have decided to start this weblog in order to record my struggles during the year. Perhaps when I look back on this at the end of the year I will gain some insight into my life that will help me improve it. I somehow doubt it, however.