Here's what your Christmas wish list says about you
It's nearly Christmas, so just deal with it.
Every year, despite insisting we don't want anything, every girl has a mental (or saved in their phone) list of things that they'd quite like to receive as gifts. We'll act all coy when asked what we want, refusing to give in and admit that, deep down, we are all materialistic animals.
But what does the contents of your Christmas wish list say about you as a person? Let's find out.
You're a busy young professional who frankly doesn't have time for the bullshit that Christmas entails. Being a grown ass lady means your wish lists have turned from stupidity to practicality. At this stage, a box of dishwasher tablets would be welcomed with open arms and dirty dishes aplenty. The beyond insane increase in rent this year has seen you wave goodbye to such luxuries as lunch and heating, but at least you have bodily autonomy! Oh wait.
Your ultimate life goal of legally adding 'MUA' at the end of your name on Facebook is within reaching distance and these few bits from Mac are sure to cement it as reality. You've expensive taste that's rare to find, as Zoella's **ChRiStMaS mAkEuP rEcOmMeNdAtIoNs ViDeO** informed you. You've been known to throw on a full face of slap for something as uneventful as going to the petrol station, but who cares? Your haters are your motivators.
You absolute nerd, what the heck is wrong with you? Take up a cool hobby like Candy Crush or drinking. You're only asking for books so you can take a dainty little Instagram of them all beside a candle and cup of tea, teamed with a Hefe filter, captioned "Christmas bliss xx". You got 595 points in your Leaving Cert, which you're still livid about. You get in touch with newspapers to highlight their typos every day and you have six cats.
An Assortment of Makeup Brushes
Spade a spade, you're basic and proud. You derive pleasure from your Michael Kors watch, kale smoothies and rewatching The Notebook at least once a month. Christmas is the embodiment of your personality. You fantasise about it all year and it takes every bit of self control you have not to put up the decorations in May. You've got your shopping done by 30th November and always buy cosy new pyjamas for Christmas Eve.
Grow up, you absolute baby. You've still got teddies in your bed and buy Kinder Surprises as a treat. You're still partially convinced that Santa is real, so everyone in the house has to play ball because you're the baby of the family at 26 years of age. You leave out biscuits for Santa and even write him a thank you letter after Christmas. Professionally, you're actually thriving and your greatest fear is word getting out that you're actually a big baby.
You're a big legend, that's what. You laugh in the face of societal norms, as you boldly tweet that life isn't about material possessions, from your iPhone 7 Plus. The phrase "Christmas has been taken over by corporate greed", will come out of your mouth upwards of eighteen times as you attend your work 12 pubs annual outing. You went traveling to find yourself after college and ultimately found that you hate bugs, hostels and people.
You are currently in the interviewing stages of becoming a Rose on this year's Rose of Tralee. With such a weighty title potentially hanging in the balance, you've had to reconstruct your entire personality to a more palatable form and also give up smoking. This Christmas, you'll be enjoying a vegan dinner on your own because you family has disowned you until you 'cop onto yourself and stop acting the little madam'.