'Tis the season to be jolly

Okay, that’s the Pity Party done for the year, black jelly beans and stale Cheese Curls all eaten up and I’ve left the party, with not a glance backwards. ‘Tis now the season to be jolly. Tinsel and sparkley things. And jolly I plan to be.

I’ll be starting the jollification process with a very delicious sounding meal tonight, at one of those very smart, very in, restaurants where I have to ask the waiter a million-and-one questions because I don’t understand the menu because it's filled with oh-so-fashionable-but-unpronouceable ingredients. Normally in the form of a foam or a jus. I can always see them shaking their heads and rolling their eyes when they turn away, at my ignorance. I’m persistant, though, and normally have them on my side by pudding.

I’m going with three of my favourite people. It was supposed to be four, but G’s boss is a monsterous ogre with fourteen arms and one eye and she has to work late and is not allowed to come. I shall attempt to smuggle out a small something for her, probably unpronounceable, but which, I’m sure, will taste delightfully delicious. I’m sure they won’t mind washing out my lunchbox from work lunch (tuna stir-fry) and putting it in there. Why would they?