The curse of secret santa

It is by it’s very name a curse. Secret. I spend time and effort choosing gifts for everyone, and selfishly want some of the glory when I see the person get them. Equally, because you get no glory you can get away with no time and effort and still get something in return. 

I often lose out on secret santa. The biggest one I do is with uni friends, 10-12 (depending on who had babies that year/double booked themselves) of us go away together for a weekend of drunken misbehaving. We do a generic secret santa, a present for anyone. It worked quite well but some bought funny but useless tat where others put effort in and made up calendars or picture frames. For three years I got the useless tat but this year, this year I won big and got the photo frame.

I got a lovely gift from work, but just a little underwhelming. I got some handwarmers, the microwaveable type you pop in your pocket. A very useful gift for the organised, but with a tiny tear away and a propensity to lose things/burn myself/get easily confused I’d probably end up putting them in my shoe so they’re a bit useless for me really. 

Secret santa is always a roulette. Sometimes you win. More often than not you pray you pick yourself so it’s an excuse to buy a bottle of wine, a bar of chocolate and not waste your money on useless tat no one needs but you think is funny or appropriate or to be honest you just want to buy for someone! It’s still a game I’ll always play though. It’s thrilling, exciting, childlike and at the end of the day it’s an extra present for me. Win win 

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