eggnog, mince pies, turkey and merriment

I sat on the kitchen floor, in front of the heater, smoking. I thought about Christmas song lyrics that somehow match people I know. For example:
Fahad (obsessed with anything to do with motoring) : "driving home for Christmas"
Katie (who has admitted she is very demanding) : "oh I wish it could be Christmas everyday"
Richard (fascist) : "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas"
Rachel (obese) : "Oh, bring us a figgy pudding"
Robert (keen sailor) : "DECK the halls with boughs of holly"
Sam (vertically challenged) : "have yourself a merry little Christmas"
and so on and so forth. some are farfetched, i know..... Then i realised how wrong it was to use such extreme stereotyping for my own amusement and stopped

I'm quite crestfallen these days. Maybe I have seasonal affective disorder or maybe I'm just lonely. I have two fleeting fantasies of married/co-habiting adult relationship life. I'm not sure if I want to be loved intensively like Meg Ryan in 'When A Man Loves A Woman' except I don't particularly want my partner to be a pilot and I don't fancy being an alcoholic mother. this fantasy has kids and a strong family structure maintained by me. The other; (no children here) a really relaxed relationship whereby we don't even need to talk sometimes and we have a mutual understanding of each others space and we both have our different careers but we support each other when and where we can. Like in Enduring Love. Or maybe we won't be as professional as that. Maybe more casual like in 'High Fidelity'. He could be an aspiring writer or something underpaid but I don't care and I'm happy living in the dingy flat we rent because he's fun and I love him.

Except for the time off, I can't say I'm looking forward to Christmas. There will be lots of food and drink and films on the telly but I don't know how I feel about that. I would say I am indifferent about it at the moment. I don't plan to buy anyone any presents due to lack of money and will. I probably should get my mother something as its practically obligatory and because despite the fact that I've said I don't want any presents she will still give me something or other to unwrap. I don't know what the arrangements are yet. I don't think it's a decision I'll really have to make. It will just happen, you know?
I should like to buy myself some boots with the little money I have and I'll say they are from Santa what with Lapland being the leading suppliers of black knee highs and all.

All I really want for Christmas is a U.S. visa and a job there for next autumn but I expect this won't be possible. It's a drawn-out process.
Christmas is not a thing. I'd rather not be writing about it but there is little else worth mentioning right now. Stupid childhood memories of Christmas remind me that I used to buy my cats (1 and 2) gifts and little canine treats for my grandparent's dogs. They would sign my Christmas cards "love from Nan, Granddad and (insert dogs names)" with little doggy foot print ink symbol optional. Christmas is for children. When I'm at work in central London, and I'm dazzled by the twinkling lights and my eardrums are repetitively pierced by the jingle bells on shite Christmas songs, I pretend its not happening. Fortunately, my friends and family are similarly unenthused about 'the season' so, despite the purple tinsel tree and the mistletoe over the door, I'm quite able to ignore it. It's all a bit stupid as most of the people i know would rather poke their own eyes out than kiss each other but i figure, unless you want to be outcast from society this winter you have to be mildly involved with the festivities. I'm not bitter if that is how I sound. It just washes over me and I smile and politely reply 'and what about you what are you doing for Christmas?' I hope to be absorbed by my studies. Eggnog, mince pies, turkey and merriment and then... January.