Firstly, I feel that I owe an apology to anybody who may be offended by my snappy persona on what we ought to regard as a sunny, wintry day which, to my embarrassment, I am somewhat untouched by. For one thing, I hardly feel festive as I fight the temptation to return to bed, little more than two hours after I left it - accepting the fact that Christmas is only five days away would give me a headache that I wouldn't stop talking about beyond New Year. Still, I hope to regain my festive spirit long before I wake up at 6am on Christmas morning!

Today is the day after I spent twelve hours travelling to and from my native county, which is approximately 160 miles away from where I currently live, so darkened moods and crippling fatigue was literally included in the package of Being Imprisoned in a Stuffy Car for the best part of my waking hours. Apart from picking up two Lindt bars in Tesco, I arrived home without anything else which made my struggles slightly more worthwhile - unless you count a fried chicken binge at KFC on the way home as a treat worth giving up a pre-Christmas diet for. So, feelings of pity are beginning to implode as I recover from a tiring day which, of all things, had to take place less than twenty four hours after I attended the last day of term at school!

Forty eight hours on, I already feel as though many years have separated me from the school environment because I found myself in the opposite a short while later, but my head has hardly been given a spare moment to consider recent events. In a cruel twist of fate, I was given a perfect opportunity to fly into a stormy rage this morning when my laptop suddenly stopped connecting to the internet - therefore preventing me from logging onto Blogger!

Numerous thoughts raced through my mind, some of which were more frantic than a racehorse's gait, as I resisted the urge to toss my laptop against the wall. For an unexplainable reason, I saw common sense - in other words, realized that all of my Christmas presents could be taken away if I made a dent in the wall - and calmed myself down a bit, though the slightest touch to my skin would have made the least faint-hearted sizzle like a barbecued sausage.

All in all, I wasted nearly an hour and a half exploring options on the laptop which didn't result in reconnecting to the internet, so I'm still feeling pretty sore about it. However, I probably would have used that time by cleaning my en-suite (a chore which I'm always keen to put off until the sight of a hairy shower physically makes me vomit - no wonder why I wash my hair in the dark on schooldays!), lifting 2kg weights and tickling my kitten, Teddy, until he would fall off my laptop, looking more sheepish than a scandal-hit celebrity.

I begrudge wasting my time because I've learnt that every second of it is special - and the key towards unlocking the pleasure that I actively seek. I'm half-tempted to sue HP (the manufacturers of my laptop) for the distress that their product caused for what was undoubtedly the worst ninety minutes of this week, yet I suppose that moving on will heal the wounds caused by not being able to access Amazon during periods of writing frustration.

If I manage to break through the clouds that my brain has partly become, I might be able to tell you about the events that have defined one modern teenager's life of late. It honestly amazes me how my attitude has transformed within the space of three days, since I posted my previous post on Wednesday - 'excited' and 'hungover' are the ideal examples of polar opposites, are they not? Of course, I haven't touched a single drop of alcohol (apart from tasting an amaretto-flavoured truffle in a bag of Thorntons chocolates the other night - my brother selfishly stole the Marc de Champagne one), but I'm starting to sympathise with those who have overdone it with cocktails, glitzy glasses and pea-sized shots.

Surely fatigue is in the same league as hungoverness? I don't know anything else to compare my exhaustion to: like the side effects of one too many drinks, I'm suffering from the consequences of five extremely early starts and countless minutes trapped inside a movement-restrictive vehicle. Ugh, at least I'm certain of one job that I'll never aspire to: lorry driver. My life would be over if I had to get a job in that industry, despite the freedom of travel and maybe snacking on the edible packages if delivering for supermarkets.

Now is where my apology for a lack of inspiration is necessary: instead of focusing on sparkly lights, potential surprise presents and watching a marathon of Christmas films, my attention is wandering elsewhere because I haven/t had a moment to settle into the embrace of the festive season, except for opening my advent calender every evening. From today, however, I hope to change that and really let my excitement build by the time that Christmas Day is celebrated next Thursday - despite enclosed in a world of blinding fog, I still light up at the thought of my favourite day fastly approaching!

I guess that now I should switch off my laptop (without losing the Wifi connect again), close my eyes and wake up twelve hours later, feeling more refreshed than I did upon my 10am waking call earlier today. Fat chance! Oh well, maybe I ought to aim for a full recovery come the end of the weekend before throwing myself into Christmas - head first.