The 12 Days Of Christmas When You’re Single AF

Is there a worse time of year to be single than Christmas? With parties to go to every weekend and over-exposure to questioning aunts that can be dodged quite easily for the rest of the year, it’s no fun being left without a date over the festive season. Never mind two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree, here’s what I’ll be getting from the single life this Christmas.

  1. On the first day of Christmas my single life sent to me… a Turkey for one in a foil roasting tin. That’s right, the most depressing of the ready meals—the one-man roast. Nothing says “I have nowhere to go and nothing to live for” like purchasing one of these bad boys and a bottle (or two) of wine in December. What’s the point in roasting a joint I can’t afford when I’ll have to live off turkey leftovers until Easter? You know what, forget it, I’m getting pizza.
  2. On the second day of Christmas my single life sent to me… two Christmas parties to attend alone. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a party, but crafty ol’ Christmas has found a way to sap the fun right out of them. It seems everyone has a secret agreement about cuffing season apart from me, as I’ll turn up and realize I’m the only single person left in my hometown. Embarrassing at the best of times, but completely mortifying when every stationary object is festooned with mistletoe. Stay away, uncle Bert.
  3. On the third day of Christmas my single life sent to me… three voicemails from Grandma. Good news, somebody out there loves me! Bad news, it’s an 80-year-old woman who is forced to care about me by bloodline default. While everyone else is sending loved up Christmas emojis to their nearest and dearest, I’ll be listening to Grandma’s pocket dial as she enjoys a more active social life than I do.
  4. On the fourth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… four sets of matching pajamas underneath the tree. It seems I’ve hit that awkward age where I’m too old to buy toys for but too young to be given homeware. (I mean, where exactly would I put it in my poky studio apartment?) The result? I find new ways to fake shock and delight over and over as I’m gifted with variations of smart, patterned pajamas of the shirt and trousers variety. I wouldn’t care so much if it was sexy, but that panda heart print is hardly going to help me pull.
  5. On the fifth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… five awkward Tinder dates. In a last-ditch attempt to feel loved-up for the festive season, my Tinder standards bar is lowered considerably and I start to think that maybe I should widen my age range to twenty years plus. Cue a series of spectacularly unsuccessful dates which leave me running for the hills well before dessert.
  6. On the sixth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… six drunk texts to my ex. Huddled up in my slanket working my way through a bottle of red, the next step is inevitable. Doesn’t matter how much I’ll hate myself the next day or how ‘in a relationship’ the dude now is—my ex is gonna receive a stream of drunk texts from me. People still fall for the “sorry, my friend stole my phone” line, right?
  7. On the seventh day of Christmas my single life sent to me… seven weeks of pay blown on presents. You’d think being single would be an absolute dream when it comes to buying presents, what with no costly other half to spend my cash on. The reality? With no one to split the cost of gifts with, I end up forking out weeks of my hard-earned cash on chutneys and other assorted crap for extended members of the family. With no guy to buy me something I really want this year, I guess all I’m getting in return is those pajamas.
  8. On the eighth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… eight Disney re-runs at midday. Social life, what social life? I choose to spend my holiday face down on the sofa, surrounded by wrapping paper and M&Ms. With every family hit of the last 50 years playing on repeat, I’ll have a date with the TV from Christmas Eve through to New Year, at least.
  9. On the ninth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… nine pounds of weight gain. If no one’s going to soothe my feelings, there’s only one thing for it—eat them. Whether it’s carbo-loading my mom’s Christmas roast or consuming the calories of a second person purely in drink, festive weight gain is as much a part of Christmas as stockings and a cheese board. Catch me nursing my food baby and imagining life with its imaginary father.
  10. On the tenth day of Christmas my single life sent to me… 10 empty chocolate wrappers. Let’s be honest here, 10 is positively frugal. Nothing stands between me and a chocolate selection box, especially after another awful blind date. If you haven’t heard from me by New Year’s Eve, please can someone come and unearth me from my chocolate wrapper burial.
  11. On the eleventh day of Christmas my single life sent to me… an 11-hour hangover after the office Christmas party. If there’s a better way to get through Frank from accounting’s rendition of Jingle Bell Rock, I’d like to hear it. While lucky coworkers spend the office shindig chatting up colleagues from different departments, I’ll be dodging small talk like a pro with repeated trips to the bar and buffet. The whole thing would be wiped from my memory were it not for the banging headache I get next day as a cruel reminder.
  12. On the twelfth day of Christmas, my single life sent to me 12 months to do it all again. Glutton for punishment that I am, I’ll have forgotten how much I loathe online dating and how unappealing a run is on a cold January morning, and set myself a bunch of completely unattainable New Year’s resolutions. Maybe I’ll be celebrating next Christmas in a loved-up couple. If not, at least I know where to buy a decent one-man roast.
Isobel is a freelance blogger and writer for hire specialising in content for millennials who haven't quite got it together yet (i.e. herself). When not glued to her laptop, she enjoys eating cheese, doing yoga and spending time with family and friends.
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