Xmas parties, and my annual morose whinge about being in Melbourne.

It's official: the next person who whinges to me about how tired they are of going out to all these christmas parties - the 'silly season' - is going to be thumped.

Why? I hardly go to any, unless you count a tepid booze-up with a law firm or an insurance company. So don't go complaining to me about how dreary these parties all with all the PR people are, or advertising, or even consulting. It could be much worse.

On a procedural note it's that time of year, so here's my annual existential misery rant. I'll summarise this time, it's quicker and it's all ground I've been over with you.

1. I have two lives (yes, only two now, settle down). In Sydney I'm a man-about-town; in Melbourne I'm a father-of-four. The separation works nicely.
2. It breaks down when I'm in Melbourne with time on my hands, as I am now
   
3. I don't live in Melbourne, so I'm effectively homeless when I'm here
4. I don't have many friends in Melbourne
   
5. The few friends I do have here don't appear to like me at all

So I can't stay home and relax because I have no home. And I can't go out because everyone hates me. Or they might as well. If this year follows the usual pattern, by the day after christmas I'll be sitting in a car in the parking lot at the 7-11 on the corner of Springvale Rd and Blackburn Rd with a slurpee in my hand, banging my head against the steering wheel and wondering where it all went wrong .

Which of course is ridiculous - my life at the moment is a thing of great beauty and joy. It's just being here in Melbourne that sets me off.