Rubbish ‘haircuts as metaphor for commercialism of Christmas’ metaphor
It’s ridiculous how early I am having my Christmas haircuts these days. It is not even December and I am already having had my Christmas haircut. When I was young we would only have our Christmas haircuts on Christmas Eve. Nowadays people are having their Christmas haircuts in early November.
I will probably see my Easter haircut in supermarkets as soon as my Christmas haircut has been growing a couple of weeks etc
“I’ve Become The Kind of Man I’ve Always Recognised That It Was Likely that I Might Become” (lyrics for original version of Come Home by James)
My partner was away for the night with work. I had an invitation to watch United at a pub with several people I actually quite like. We all know how messy this got right?
That’s right is got this messy: I worked until after 6PM and then I went home and watched football on my own. Pwopah naughty. I did stay up quite late, mind, putting together a playlist on iTunes. So…you know…people suggesting I’ve lost it are clearly wide of the mark.
There was a point on the way home where I had reconciled myself to going out. “You never go out in the week anymore,” I told myself. “Because working with a hangover is a fucking arsehole,” I replied tartly.
Ten years ago it was fine. I was a young, cocksure ragamuffin. My body could cope with the aftermath of six hours drinking on a weeknight and being in work for nine in the morning. Sure, when I say nine in the morning I mean ten in the morning. And I wasn’t really working, often lying under a desk.
I can’t do that now. I manage people. People literally look up to me. Yes, literally: I am taller than more than three-quarters of the people I manage (I don’t care about what anyone says: Doc, Bashful, Sneezy etc are a great bunch of lads*).
*HA! This is a joke about me not being very tall. I am taller than most of the people I manage though so it is not outside the realms of reality that I do manage a dwarf or two.