One of my favourite bits in Bridget Jones is when she writes her Christmas cards. She decides to have a little glass of something to help the festive spirit along … and by the time she’s finished, the bottle is empty and the messages have become more and more heartfelt and inappropriate (eg to her accountant: ‘Dear, dear Robert, I have only met you twice, but I feel you are a special, beautiful person with so much warmth in your heart’ – I’m paraphrasing because I can’t find my copy).
I’ve never been in danger of this just because … I’ve never sent Christmas cards.
Why not? Well, because it seems weird to send them to people I see all the time. And if I don’t see people then perhaps there’s not much point in sending them a card? They might feel they had to send one back and it would never end. Also, I never know anyone’s address, and it’s expensive … And it’s a commitment. If you send someone a card this year, then that’s quite a big step. It might mean you have to remember to send them a card every year until the end of time or else they’ll be upset.
And yet … I like *getting* Christmas cards. And it seems a nice tradition to upkeep. So this year I realised that this dithering, commitmentphobic attitude has to end. I am sending Christmas cards, like a proper adult. I’ve bought some lovely cards. I might not send cards to absolutely everyone, but I’m going to send cards to people I don’t see all the time but who are in my thoughts. And whose addresses I know. Now I just need to buy some stamps …