Jingle all the fuckin' way

Xmas is officially gone. All the advertisement, all the decoration, all the lights in the streets for one fucking day (night) and that's it: we drink, drink, drink, eat, open the presents - if any - drink some more, start saying shit, embarress ourselves in front of others, weep, go to sleep miserable and wake up the next day with a massive hangover. That's Xmas, alright.

We had guests at home: my cousin and her friend Fernanda and Paula's friend Cassandra. It was fun. I got presents (a book, membership for the local cinema, four apointments in a hair salon and a DVD). Lots of booze. Not beer. Vodca and Red Bull.
I needed something stronger because I'd worked for ten hours before going home that day and I would've fell asleep if I hadn't drunk that shit.
But then at certain point, at the end of the night when everybody had already gone to bed, Paula and I started talking and the subjects weren't the most fun. As I said, Xmas...

The next day we did nothing. Played some games, watched 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off', ate the left overs...

I was supposed to work Boxing Day. And I did, of course. At midday my eight-hour shift started and I worked the kitchen the whole time. Thank God... It was busy as hell and I wouldn't have been able to work the coffee machine. I couldn't think at all, I wanted something mechanical. Man, I must have washed 100 machines... Take the cups out and put the dishes on, on and on, until 8pm. And collecting plates, and sweeping floors and taking the trash out and washing up... Ricardo was there working with us, which was pretty cool, so the atmosphere was fun. But at 4pm all Brazilians in the kitchen left and it was only me, another girl (I don't know her name, Ana or Andreia) and Rafal, the Polish guy. At the end is a bitch because you've gotta start cleaning everything up and keep on serving costumers. My last dish I washed at 8:15pm and we're supposed to leave the place at 8pm. And of course, all the Easter Europeans never give anybody a hand... They keep saying 'you've gotta work faster'... How about helping me out and shutting the fuck up? That would have been wonderful... What's the matter with those people? If I see somebody struggling, almost in desperation, to finish everything up to be able to go home I wouldn't think twice and give them a hand. But hey, that's me.

When I left almost all the stores were closed and there was no Jubilee Line (and there won't be until Dec 31), so I would either have to take Central line up to Oxford Circus and take the train to Brixton from there or fuckin' walk to Oxford Circus and get the fucking tube. I chose the latter. I went to a McDonald's and had some fries and a cheeseburger and came home, after waiting for almost ten minutes for the tube. Still in Sunday schedule, so...

Another Xmas, jingling the bells all the fucking way.