Dear Susan,
I have been visited by the ghost of Christmas past. Please tell me none of this is real.

A Clayton's Christmas, that's what it is. There's nothing right about it at all. First of all I still have credit on my bank card and there are twenty days to go. I haven't received a Christmas card from Wendy telling me that Karen and Simon have just landed CEO jobs with IBM and are both engaged to European royalty. I had all my Christmas cards posted in November to beat the rush on December 23rd.My Christmas presents are all bought, wrapped and under the tree and the lights are all blinking on and off at 20 second intervals.

I was  trying really  hard to make it feel like Christmas but no one wanted to 'jingle' with me.
'Let's decorate the tree'I squealed with excitement. Eloise sneered, put on her cut off jeans and her Doc Martens and went to the opera. Rosie was married and decorating her own tree, Josie was doing her washing because she was catching a plane to London in two hours and had nothing to wear. Ivan was sitting in the arm chair watching the grass grow at the Australian Open.

So the job of tree enhancement was left to moi. It's a job I didn't mind tackling alone because I had once single handedly assembled an IKEA chest of drawers. The tree only took a few minutes, a bauble here a flash of tinsel there a blinking light everywhere and a star on the top.
'What do you think Ivan?' I asked as I flicked the switch and prayed that I didn't cause a blackout as far north as Santa's helipad. I didn't and the pretty lights flashed on and off and on and off etc until I felt an epilepsy fit coming on.
Ivan however had escaped to the world of the sugar plum fairies and was enjoying the golf on TV with his mouth agape, his nose snorting and his eyes firmly closed. I shoved two candy canes up his nostrils, tied some baubles to his ears, wrapped some tinsel around his head and decided to leave him up until New Years.
Whatever happened to those years when Josie told us she wanted a dump truck and if she got a doll she'd 'tread on it'.The year Rosie told Santa all she wanted was world peace and a better future for the children of tomorrow. She was practising  being a Miss Australia entrant. And what about the year Eloise was in such a hurry to open her presents she tore them open with her teeth. Whatever happened to those years when the $4000 worth of new toys were lying in the bedroom while the kids were making cubby houses out of the empty boxes.
I don't like it when Ivan walks in and reads the Christmas cards and says 'Who's Marlene?' and I have to tell him 'She's your sister' I don't like it when I can't withdraw $100 from the bank and buy three sets of clothes,plus shoes for Rosie Josie and Eloise from Target because now they only wear Esprit  Country Road and Table Eight.
This year is going to be awful. Josie is OS enjoying a politically correct white Christmas, Rosie's in-laws have custody of her and Calvin on Christmas Day and Eloise has said she can spare us an hour between 11am
and midday. Ivan is busy packing his dingo fighting equipment for his Safari which begins on Boxing Day; uncle Bert who always collects the wrapping paper is finding his incontinence a social disadvantage so he's not coming, which means aunty Madge won't be coming; so where does that leave the Waldorf salad?
Spending Christmas without the people you love and who love you  is the pits. I guess there are a lot of people who are in deeper pits than I am.
So Santa for Christmas I would just like to know that no one is lonely.

Oh and I wouldn't mind a new bed side light.
.
Please Susan tell me that was all just a bad dream.
Tonight I will be visited by the ghost of Christmas future. I'll let you know how it goes.
Love Jane txxx