Christmas was a washout, much as I expected. I’ve never really done it, I totally didn’t do it this year.

First the sister phones up saying that she and mum had been invited to my brother. Well, I sucked on my teeth and mumbled and said, well, I’ll come, but he’s a cunt. And she starts to um and aw and go, eh, you’re not invited. I says, huh? I’m not invited? Well fuck me, but that’s a bridge too far, I’m afraid. I’m after getting you and the kids a load of presents, I lied, because, as per usual, I’d bought nothing, and ha no intention of hitting the shops til Christmas eve. Well, she muses, you could send. Maybe. I could in me fuck, I reply, they’re going to saint Vincent de Paul, and I cannot believe you’d take his side over mine. Oh, it’s not about sides, she says. I know what it’s about. I said. Don’t lets, she says and I have to hang u-p. fucking gutted by my own sister. Him I can understand, we’ve never liked one another and he is an unutterable cunt, but her. Disappointed I was by her attitude, but in truth vaguely happy that I was gonna miss the rigmarole.

I called my mother.

“what’s this? Do you condone this?”

“hector, he’s told me about you”

“what has he told me”

she likes to go silent, the old bird. I think she forgets she’s talking to someone most of the time.

“did he tell you he wants you in a nursing home so he can flog the house. He’s trying to muscle me out, always has been”

“now hector, she says, “I know about the girls and the drugs”

of course my heart stops, because how could she know, how could he know. It’s all nonsense.

“so I’m getting kicked out of the family”

“hector, you’ve blown your inheritance.”

“I fucking have not. He blew his investing that golf course in Tenerife.”

“oh no, it’s lovely out there.”

“when the fuck did you go to Tenerife?”

“hector, I don’t like the f. you know that.”

Fuck this.

Anyway, I wasn’t going to let that cunt get me down, and as groucho says, I wouldn’t want to be part of a club that would have me, so I’m happy enough.

Saved me a fortune in presents.

I was mooching in work, cos there was nothing else to do when Cathy started on at me, “got the shopping done”

“no one to buy for” I said, probably a little too gloomily. Well, who likes rejection, even if I thrive on it. “aw” she says with a theatric face, like I was a five year old covered in paint.

“what?”

“just….it’s Christmas. What about the family?”

“they’ve let me go”

she laughs. I must break you, I think, I must have you first and then break you. I feel effervescent with rage again. Cunts.

I don’t bother with Christmas day. Stay in bed most of the day, have all that stuffed partridges for my dinner, and smoke some grass til I conk out. Nothing on tv, utter waste of time. FFS.

So I have nothing to do and everyone has gone into hibernation or something, so what did I do? I came into work to do some stuff. All I had was my motivation and a huge bag of coke. After 3 days I’d caught up on everything. That’ll impress the boys no end. They’d love to sack me, but they can’t, cos the old man used to be on the board. Then off on a three day bender, including a party in Gerts for new years. I don’t know, I lost count of how many pills I popped, but it was a good gig altogether. We cracked open some bottles of Moet at the moment, and there was a girl there called Emma who’s from Derry and has a voice like a razor blade being dragged across a mirror, but I stuck my tongue down her throat anyway. She didn’t seem to mind. She tasted of smoking and redbull. I think I vomited, I can’t remember.

For new years, I took up smoking. Thought I might as well.