When I know there’s a big confrontation coming, there’s a certain sickly pressure that hits my lungs whenever I think about it. I don’t enjoy conflict — I’m not a big fan. I’ll argue til the cows come home, but I don’t like making enemies or drawing lines.

I have a feeling this Christmas thing (of which I know most of you know next to nothing) is going to come down to something like that, and it casts a pallor over just about everything.