It’s 12.45am and I’m absolutely boiling hot. My brief wonder as to whether I was being consumed by demons and being dragged into the fiery pit fizzled out when I remembered that I’d turned the thermostat up after the end of the heating programme.

There’s a relief. Imagine trying to explain the burn mark on the carpet through the medium of Sally Morgan or Derek Acorah. “What’s that, Sammy? A little girl called Elizabeth, no, Mary? Elizabeth! What happened? What was the year? One, six, five, eight? A malevolent spirit, Richard? James? He use her for firewood? Oh no, that’s awful Sam. Thank you Sam.”

In reality, I’m a little overcome with stress having spent the evening with my parents. It was actually really nice; they enjoyed my food and engaged in the ritual preparation of the veg for Christmas dinner. We watched some TV together, my mum polished off two thirds of a bottle of wine. But all the time, I had my eye on the clock. I was fucking desperate for a cigarette and wanted to get them home before the shops closed, but time thwarted my craving. Curses! Curse me for never owning up to smoking to my parents, although I’m sure they must know. Curse me for having given up and for having none in the house.

Anyway.

ANY FUCKING WAY!

I’m sure I’ll wake up in a fine mood tomorrow, having been visited by three ghosts during the night.

Ghost of Christmas past:
1988: tubby
1989: tubbier
1990: watch it, Tina!
1991 – 1999: for fuck’s sake!
2000: FIVE STONE LIGHTER THAN LAST YEAR?
2001 – 2005: you’re looking too thin
2006: watch it, Tina.
2007: for fuck’s sake
2008 – 2009: just settle for this, but be careful
2010: you’ve done it again
2011: the coffee, cigs and depression diet really suits you

Ghost of Christmas present:
Oh deary me. Should you really even consider eating anything at all for the next couple of months? Still, you’ve put on this marvellous lunch for everyone and they’ll think you’re trying to poison them all if you don’t tuck in yourself. You aren’t trying to poison them all are you?

Look, you’ve got this fabulous new telescope, I’m sure there’ll be one clear night in the next three months when you might catch a glimpse of the moon’s craters. Unless it’s a new moon of course. Maybe you can use it to see what that weird bloke over the road gets up to. Don’t make it obvious that you’re spying on him though!

Ghost of Christmas future:
Well, one thing’s for certain, I’ll be dead at some point. It doesn’t really matter what sort of life you lead, but I suppose if you put stuff in, you get more out. Ultimately though, you could be the nicest person on earth, or a total bastard and whatever happens, you end up in the cold, cold earth.

This time last year, I was pissed out of my head on rum. Tonight, I’ve just got terrible indigestion, I’ve hurt my back and I have a craving for cigarettes that I won’t have access to until 7am when the shop over the road opens. There’s also an element of excitement. I’m looking forward to tomorrow, to having my family here, to acting the goat with my niece, to improvising methods of heating things without a microwave (there are these things called ovens, that I’ve heard are terribly good for the purpose).

I don’t have a timetable for tomorrow, so I guess other than getting the turkey into the oven on time, I’ll be winging it. Nothing new there then.