Hey there, Sparklers 🙂

So a lot of people always ask me “why do you hate the 23rd December so much? It’s Christmas Eve Eve!”

Well, there’s two reasons. The first is that on the 23rd of December when I was younger my parents and I would go and visit family members that we wouldn’t see on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. All of these family members have now passed away so in a way it’s a sad day for me as now, instead of visiting them in their homes, I visit their graves instead.

The second reason is because something bad/stupid always happens to me on this day. For example:

Last night I had the worst nights sleep EVER, so I was hoping for a nice little lie-in, but I was rudely awoken by my mother informing me that I needed to go to the shops and get the final bits and bobs for Christmas dinner etc. So, completely bogeyed, I was trying to listen to the list my mum was giving me so I could type it in my notes on my phone, but my eyes just wouldn’t stay open.

I ended up writing things like “A bag of Brussel sprfgdx” which I later had to try and make sense of. It was like I’d set myself a little riddle.

I instantly had the feeling that something was gonna happen today, almost like it’s become a superstition (silly, I know).

I got to the shop and got everything we needed, all was going well and I started to feel more confident. Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe I was just paranoid and everything’s fine.

I had so much heavy shopping it felt like my arms were gonna fall off. My shoulder blades felt like they were being pulled apart, and it doesn’t help that I have hyper-mobility syndrome in my joints, so my elbows were literally bending backwards. My arms looked like they’d been attached to me the wrong way round, and it made it twice as painful to carry heavy shopping.

By this point I was waiting to cross the road, and right in front of me was our local taxi firms office. I thought screw it, I’m gonna get a taxi. It’s literally only gonna take me 10 seconds down the road but it’s a 10 minute walk and I felt like I was in a saw movie or something.

I waited for the green man like the good girl I am, but two cars didn’t pay attention to the traffic lights and had to slam on the brakes in the middle of the crossing, then attempted to reverse as I was crossing over. Stupid, right? If it took the driver 2 more seconds to realise I was there I’d have been flattened.

I got into the office and the guy behind the desk, who is also a friend, told me that they’re completely chocker-blocked and I’d be waiting a good two hours before a taxi came for me.  Looks like I was gonna have to walk home. GREAT.

Now, I thought I’d made a good choice in wearing high-waisted skinny jeans. But they still somehow managed to fall down. There I am, huffing and puffing away as I’m struggling to carry the six heavy bags I had, and I could feel my bum area getting baggier and baggier.

What do I do?! I can’t pull them up. I have too many bags. If I put them down, everything is either gonna fall out or my arms wouldn’t let me pick them back up again. I was just going to have to hope for the best.

Round the corner from where I live is a big hill, luckily I was walking down instead of up. But then the wind picked up and started pushing me from behind. So much so that it looked like I was stomping down the road.

Picture this: a young girl with six big bags of shopping, stomping down a hill with her hair in her face unable to see, and her jeans pretty much round her ankles. Very un-ladylike and also very embarrassing.

I think it’s safe to say I NEVER want to step foot out of the house on the 23rd December ever again.

But, to make matters worse, things didn’t improve once I got home. Doing the last bits of tidying up, our new hoover which we haven’t had for long decided to break. Then our 8 week old puppy decided to do a sloppy poo on my limited edition rose-gold hairdryer. Luckily it still works, but I can’t say as I want to use it again after that.

On top of that, I stood on a drawing pin about 5 different times, each time properly piercing my foot so by the end of it there was blood all over the CLEAN carpet. And Alexa was throwing a tantrum every 5 minutes and trying to pull down the Christmas tree. I was actually almost to the point of crying by the time I’d put her to bed.

Here is a picture to sum up how I feel after today’s disasters.

This amazing jumper is by Mr Cian Twomey 


I hope you enjoyed reading my disastrous story!

Lots of love,
SarahSparkles xxx


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