It is supposed to be the happiest time of the year, so of course us Brits are whining about it. While wearing ironic Christmas jumpers, obviously.
As we gear up to the day itself, the level of moaning is at an all time high. Christmas parties are too expensive, festive food is making us fat, the weather is too cold, too wet or unseasonably warm, Christmas cards are a pain, wrapping presents is a challenge, paper cuts, the queues are unbearable, traffic is bad, Christmas adverts make you nauseous, the dog knocked over the Christmas tree, the tree is shedding, the mother-in-law is unhappy with the turkey, the gravy is lumpy, the kids are hyperactive, ..... the list goes on forever.
In other words, complaining makes us very happy. We absolutely love it. Moaning is is actually part of Christmas -a gift to each other we don’t bother to wrap up.
We indulge in quite a bit here in the newsroom. Extreme cynicism is practically a journalistic trait, one we are able to indulge while writing bouncy pieces about the joys of the festive season. Nothing we like more than a good whinge, with a mince pie on the side.
Of course another thing for us to complain about is the distinctly un-festive colds and bugs sweeping through a general population exhausted by extreme shopping and lowered immune systems sparked by excessive Christmas drink consumption and eating of junk food.
While men, like my fellow columnists Blaise (see left) suffer ( actually suffer) from Manthrax, women tolerate a sniffle - but all are worth a good therapeutic, aura cleansing, whinge.
For those unfortunate enough to be working over the festive period (i.e us) this means less staff available and as a direct result more complaining - actual validated misery- which just makes us all the more joyous. Though maybe not to the point of showing good will to all man-flu sufferers, clearly.
So, my festive gift to you is a really good moan. Trust me, you’ll feel much merrier for it. Happy Christmas!