I wasn’t really planning on posting anything over Christmas, and not least because any words I do write really need to be contributing towards a looming deadline. But I sent out a Christmas email to some friends earlier and some of the responses have been particularly touching and now, as the clock trips over past midnight, I’m in a curiously sentimental mood.

It doesn’t feel much like Christmas. I’m trying to force the issue by listening to Christmas songs on iTunes but it’s not working. I just don’t feel that exciting sense of - I dunno - snow and holly and presents and fun - that you’re supposed to feel at Christmas. Not because I’m feeling down, because I’m not; not really. I’m surrounded by family and my phone keeps beeping with festive greetings and plans for New Year. Really, I’ve got a lot to feel grateful for.

It’s just that things feel different this year. I think the reason is two fold (one silly, the other possibly also silly).

Fold number one is that this is the first year, since I was at university, when there has been no Christmas Issue of The Friday Thing. I miss our annual Review of The Year - I went through some old ones earlier today that I stumbled across in my inbox. They were great. Really funny. I know it ran its course and we ended it at the right time, but I miss it. There were a lot of memories in those 11 point Courier New emails. A lot of good writers, some of whom I’m not in touch with any more. Bee and I talked about it the other day and we agreed that there’s definitely a hole. Events that occur where we wish - and I’m sure some of the other ex-TFTers do this - that TFT was still around to say something.

Fold number two is that (and please forgive me) it’s the first year I haven’t been able to text someone - yunno - special just after midnight and wish them Merry Christmas. Midnight feels a bit pointless without that. A bit empty. A bit not at all like Christmas. Somehow.

For sure, this is a landmark Christmas. A time of significant change, for better and for worse, and I’m sure this time next year, I’ll have figured out what my new Christmas traditions are. But for this one - my 29th, Jesus - I think I’m just going to go through the motions for a couple of days and look forward to New Year. At least I’m not sleeping on the floor at Heathrow or dodging snipers in Iraq (who do you think their surprise political visitor will be this year? Barney the dog? Des Browne, stuffed with sage and onion?)

So, yes, I’m going to finish wrapping these presents, finish listening to The Waitresses and go and eat a mince pie with my parents and my brother. Because there’s no reason why me not feeling festive should impact on anyone else, right?

And with that in mind - I hope, despite the fog, you made it home to be with your family. And I hope Santa brings you everything you want, or at least what you need.

A very Happy Christmas to you.

Yes, you.