I'm getting to that point where everything is doing my head in. When I was a kid, the last few days before Christmas dragged, and they seem to be so even more this year. 24 hours and 13 mins until home time. I'm actually counting down now and everything; God, I'd sell my boobs to be home right now, and my boobs are legendary. I need my own space, the opportunity to smoke when I want, not just at designated times, and a bloody great chunk of Christmas pudding, please.
That's about it for my Christmas list, but I'm not one for turning down free shit (I'm from Scunthorpe, let's not forget), so bring on Christmas morning too. And dinner with the fam. And the Queen's speech and crackers and chocolate and Dr Who and even more chocolate (there are no calories at Christmas). Bring on crazy Skype sessions and even crazier than normal fashion decisions. It's hard to feel festive in hospital, so just bring on general festivities.
SO, if I don't see you, bad luck to you. If you do, you lucky sod. Let the yuletide be as gay as I am (that's quite gay).