Working in retail for the first Christmas ever has been eye opening. Not in some pretentious, deep and profund, re-evaluate-my-life kind of way. That would be weird. Everyone said that working in retail at Christmas would be soul-detroyingly bad and maybe being part time I haven’t experienced the worst of it, but so far, I haven’t found it bad. I enjoy shopping at Christmas and I guess working in a busy shop I am right at the epicenter of the material side of Christmas. There is just this buzzing collective consciousness about what’s around the corner, it doesn’t feel like there’s anyone who couldn’t possibly know that it isn’t Christmas. It’s like, for around three weeks everyone just holds their breath in anticipation, it’s all we hear, all we talk about and the growing feeling that it’s all we think about for a while. The icy grounds, the packed buses, the slow walkers, the grumpy customers, the wind, the rain, the stomach bugs, the cold, have all been elements of this lead up to Christmas. I have seen my fair share of grumpy customers and there was something satisfying in the thought that come Christmas day, this metaphorical breath being held will be let go and everyone can relax and laugh about the stress they really let be brought on themselves. Christmas shouldn’t be stressful. I don’t know what it is, but despite all this freezing weather, icy grounds, stomach bugs, catching the cold, no matter what I always seem to look back on it all with some kind of fondness. There really is a fairy-light tinted view on memories to some extent in the Christmas period.