Driving home for Christmas


For me going home for Christmas has always been a pretty big deal. And until I started working in retail again I was always home and cosy by the fire at least a few days before Christmas Eve with my 
Presents wrapped and the ones under the tree thoroughly inspected . With the notable exception of the year I moved home from Edinburgh and the snow was so bad I almost didn't make it home at all. 
The last two years I have been working right up until Christmas Eve and loving every second of it. Okay maybe not, mostly counting down until I can go home for Christmas and mentally preparing for the trip home. Which mostly 
Involves making lists in my head of what I'll need to bring with me, in order to be better organized of course.

This year was no different. The night before Christmas Eve I had a bag full of clothes packed. Mind you I was tired and sick so I had no idea what I was actually shoving in the bag. I'm lucky I didn't arrive home with only one shoe. and then
Christmas Eve morning before work I packed food, toiletries and presents and
Even an outfit to wear home. All part if a concentrated effort to get home as quickly as possible and get my Christmas on. My dedication to this cause was such that I even went home on my lunch to pack up my car. 

After surviving the longest day ever in work I practically ran home eager to get on the Road. It was all going well. There wasn't much traffic on the quay as I walked home and I made plans to
Stop off and see my sister on my way back to Clonmel. Everything was ready to go, all I needed to do was run in and change my clothes, simples, right ? My door was being a bitch on the way in so I was forced to slam it and I was ready to leave again 5 minutes later . Just one teeny , tiny problem. My front door wouldn't open no matter how hard I pulled it, pushed it and maybe pummelled my fists against it a little. Nothing worked. My car was parked outside all ready to go and I could see it from the tiny window in my door but I couldn't get to it. Grrr. After 30 minutes of trying and failing to leave my own apartment I was able to Conclude two things. Being locked in your own apartment is almost as bad as being locked out( maybe a bit Warmer if no less 
Frustrating ) and I was going to need some help. I had a pretty good feeling that ridiculous as it was that if someone could just try and open it from the other side with my keys then I'd escape and could deal with the dodgy lock another day. unfortunately I didn't actually know any neighbours or have any way  to contact them. So I did the only other thing I could and played the damsel in distress ( which I pretty much was) and asked my boyfriend to call over to try my keys/ possibly kick my door down. Luckily he was available to come to my rescue or I'd have had a pretty shit Christmas. And it was annoying how easily he managed to open my door once the Keys were on the other side. It made me feel very much the hopeless female. On the plus side I was now on the right side of my door and ever so grateful to be finally driving home for Christmas Eve. 
I arrived home only an hour later than planned to a well lit Christmas tree, a warm fire and my dinner being made. My niece was still up fizzing with Christmas excitement. I had to wait till Christmas Eve to start feeling the Christmas spirit but it was worth the wait 

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