Christmas Eve

The week leading up to Christmas has been a tiring one (too tiring to even go to the gym) and I have been desperately looking forward to a few days off work.  I have found myself exhausted, unable to sleep at night during the week and sleeping from 7 or 8pm on Saturday nights until 11am on Sundays.

Since my last post, I have spoken with a few people about how I was feeling.   It meant a lot to hear I wasnt the only person feeling this way and that others struggle as well.  I have resolved to be proactive in moving forward in January.

So, Christmas Eve arrived.  I worked this morning and arrived at the office to hear the Pentatonix Christmas album blaring out.  I love this album and we have overplayed it, but still not got sick of it at work.  This CD and the song Feliz Navidad that is played everywhere will always remind me of my first Christmas in Canada.

After finishing work, I headed downtown and met up with some Brits.  Annoyingly the easy to find centrally located British pub that we arranged to meet at closed as we arrived!  I feel that this is not a British pub if it closes at 3pm on Christmas Eve.  It seems that this is normal in Canada and everything was closing down around us.  Luckily we found another place to congregate and spent a lovely few hours in a place called ‘Warehouse’.  I have walked past many times and seen the line along the street to get in and always fancied it.  Luckily, no queue and we got to try it. Cheap food – all meals $4.95 (£2.50).  Very hipster, everyone was wearing beanies indoors (toques as the Canadians call them) and looking super cool.  They played Greenday and Foofighters which pleased me.  It was a really lovely afternoon chatting with some of my favourite Brits and one Canadian boyfriend along for the ride. 

 After this, I headed back to The Beaches and went for a run.  It is so strange seeing everywhere closed before 9pm. I had a lovely three mile run along the road, through Kew Gardens and along the boardwalk by the beach.  Yes, thats right, 8.30pm in Canada, on Christmas Eve, and warm enough for a trot along by the water. When will I stop going on about the lack of snow? When it snows.  Then I shall moan that I am cold.

Tomorrow brings a Brit for Christmas dinner and an unexpected pile of parcels to open. I feel, well, I think warm and fuzzy would be the best way to describe it when I see the cards and presents sent, and think of the invites I had from people to spend bits of Christmas with them here.  Mum said I could open one envelope last night, another soap magazine (love my updates) and some Bertie Bassetts.  I havent had them for years – I always used to take the Berties from Mums boxes of sweets when I was little.  

For now though, it is time to have a hot chocolate in my Tim Hortons Christmas mug that I simply had to have, whilst trying to locate last nights Eastenders. 

 

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