Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful nonetheless

Last of the day, I think
In which I complain about Christmas shopping.
If you're looking for ranting of a more medical nature, scroll down a post or two.

I really, really hate shopping. I especially hate shopping when every other bastard and their dog is shopping. Christmas is just such a time.

Do not get me wrong, I really like Christmas - although I am slightly disgruntled about how commercial it has become. In fact, I deeply enjoy Winter in general. Once the nights begin to draw in, and there's a frost in the morning, I'm generally a happy Shroom. I suspect this is because Winter houses both my birthday, and Christmas... but that may simply be coincidence. Also, I find it easier to warm up than cool down - but I digress...

For me, shopping is essentially a surgical procedure, to be carried out with an economy of movement, and as little interaction as possible. In, pay for goods, out. Job done.
Browsing is bad for me - firstly because I buy stuff I don't need, and secondly because I end up agoraphobic, with homicidal urges toward my fellow shoppers. So generally, I try to avoid it.
But there's no getting away from it at Christmas. I am, of course, aware of internet shopping, which would allow me to maintain my hermitic lifestyle. However, much though I hate browsing for goods, it's the only way I can find gifts for other people. Because I basically have no fucking idea what to buy...
So today was my annual pilgrimage / penance served in a shopping centre. Interestingly enough, the centre in question does not open until midday. I mis-timed the traffic, so got there early... as did every other bastard in Christendom.

An hour before any shop opened, the place was crawling with punters, wandering around, looking at closed shops! Anathema to Shroom.
I'm not sure if it's significant, but the first shop to open was one of the upmarket lingerie boutiques... go figure

I did eventually conquer my manflu, and get the bulk of The Shopping done. Now I just need to write The Cards... but of course I forgot stamps.

(Although I did buy a pair of trousers I don't need, and a copy of The Breakfast Club)