So, it's happened. After a week of non-work, inactivity, no company other than relatives, heightened food levels (although, thankfully, no alcohol except a glass of champagne on Boxing Day), I have lost it, big time. I cracked last night when I ate three champagne truffles (Oh, just realised, maybe that is the connection), in quick succession and then felt cross with everyone, went to bed feeling unhappy with myself and all close relations.
This morning, managed to keep calm through minimal conversations with husband, hour-long phone call with brother in New Zealand, until younger daughter arrived in the kitchen. She refused to help me switch the TV back on (she turned it off last night and left it in a state from which I could not rouse it even by pressing every button on the remote). I called her a B**** and a c** (animal with udders). I am a terrrible person. This is what Christmas does to you. I have been unable to keep to my three rules, and the very worst of me has emerged to the surface.