christmas is over, finally

i suppose most british people enjoy the christmas season: it is a chance to have a holiday from work, overeat, get gifts and see their family....but not if you work in retail!
christmas is the busiest time of year: sales in novemeber and december are basically the same as the rest of the year combined, so there is really no way to underestimate the seasons importance. i have been doing overtime since the start of november, and only next week, when the sale maddness is behind will things begin to get back to normal. by the end of january, the place will be almost dead, and it will stay that way at least until summer.
in some ways i dont mind the christmas rush, we are all so busy taht there is no time to get bored. on the other hand, people get angry and agressive as the get stressed and closer to the big day: they shout, make ridiculous demands and throw tantrums like little kids.authors come in to do signings practically every other day. ian mcewan was very nice (signing a copy of atonement for my aunt) and jamie oliver was an utter twat, arriving once again with an entourage of 15 people, all to sign his beek about how to lead the good and "simple" life out in the country. somehow i doubt a man who needs a squad to sign books grows his own veg, but anyway....
nigella lawson was not much better, but then i didnt have high hopes.....
despite all the endless shifts, i have somehow been reading alot. this is partly since i have had loads of free books dumped on me, but also due to the new place where i live, which is an uninterupted ride from where i work, giving me a good chuck of non-degree related reading every night as i head home.
i finally read No Mean City, the novel of the gorbals, the slum my father was born in. actually the book was published shortly after his birth and is set at just that time: the depression. it was pretty grim stuff, a tale of fighting, drinking and not having indoor plumbing. my parents took me once to see that part of glasgow, and i do have vague memories of such things, but by that time things had already been massively renovated, although the area still looked grim....when i told my dad i had been reading the book, he insisted that although his family had been poor they still more respectable than those in the novel! i guess everything is relative, even in poverty.
from there i moved on to reading some journalistic biographies set in zimbabwe: house of stone by christina lamb and mukiwa and when a crocodile eats the sun, by peter godwin. grim all over again with regards to the present state of things there, although the parts that intrigued me the most were the details of how white people there lived in the 60s and 70s: basically like immune gods. it was fascinating and sickening at the same time.
continueing the biography/memoir theme, i read the latest book by isabel allende, suma de los dias. i wasnt too impressed. it seemed to be trying to cash in on the (deserved) popularity of paula, but without the self reflection. there was also a bit too much self satisfaction in there...although there were a few juicy sections, such as allende's daughter in law becoming a lesbian...but at a certain point i have to ask myself: do i care?
so in such a way i spent my christmas: curled up in bed, reading free books. i cant really complain.