Delusional

Want to hear something ridiculous? In my imagination, I'm something of a domestic goddess.

Why is that ridiculous, you might ask?

Well, for one thing, a worrying proportion of my diet is made up of instant quinoa, avocado, stir-in pasta sauce and peanut butter cups. I work strange hours, okay? They're not conducive to cooking.

For another, I'm not the tidiest person in the world. If I have guests over there's usually some frantic rearranging of the piles of crap accumulated on every available surface.

I'm a bit of an anxious hostess, hovering and fidgeting and fretting that people aren't having enough fun.

I let my laundry pile build up to the extent that you could bury a medium-sized child in it.

You get the picture. But there's something about Christmas that makes me think I'm Nigella. That I need to be ready for an influx of surprise photogenic guests expecting home-made goodies and festive cheer.

Please ignore the burnt sleigh cookie at the back. Thanks.

I invested in some Christmas cookie cutters on a recent trip to Ikea. And a muffin tin on a recent trip to Target. Basically I seem to be buying one present for myself for each one I buy someone else...

Roll on Christmas, people. I am doing it right this year!