RIGHT, that’s it, the clocks have gone back, it’s baltic outside and the Christmas adverts have started on the telly.
I actually thought the clocks had gone back a couple of weeks ago, it seemed a lot darker on a morning as I was going out to work and the nights seemed to be drawing in a lot quicker.
Then it dawned on me - it was just the new street light which had been installed at the bottom of my drive.
Anyway, Christmas is fast approaching, though not all the Christmas adverts have been on yet.
We haven’t been told yet that the holidays are coming by Coca Cola, the official sponsors of the festive season, but it won’t be long before the big fat fella in the red suit is winking at us from the back of his wagon.
But others have started, and they’re already getting right on my nerves.
We still have pumpkins and fireworks in the shops, but the pressure is already on for everybody to get ready for Christmas.
A couple of people at work have mentioned a Christmas night out, which at the moment could be a slap-up meal in a hotel followed by a few drinks and a chance for us all to pretend we like each other while complimenting ourselves on our wacky festive jumpers.
In reality it’s likely to be two or three of us sat in some dingy bar listening to Slade and slagging off those who said they were coming but dropped out at the last minute.
Even writing about it now, I can feel myself going into Bah Humbug mode, but it does my head in how we have to be all planned for it.
Who makes the Christmas rule book up?
It’s only going to get worse as well.
I’m sick of hearing how if I order a sofa now, I can get it in time for Christmas.
Does anyone actually buy new sofas especially for Christmas?
What’s the point in doing that?
Surely we have better things to spend all of our money on at Christmas than a new suite for the front room?
Let’s all go and shell out the thick end of a grand for a brand spanking new suite for some drunk old relative who you see once a year to come round and dribble all over it and drop bits of Pringles between the cushions.
By the time the decorations are down, the new couch will look like something you’ve picked up from the skip while you were dumping the recycling on Boxing Day.