The low point for me was when I found myself reading a news item showcasing the "Top Celebrity Christmas Tweets", complete with pictures of Mariah Carey artfully over-posed and airbrushed beside Santa, and The Rock swigging a bottle of bubbly with his arm around a life-sized cut-out of himself (as if one wasn't bad enough).
Perhaps the fault is mine for bothering to consume news during a time of year when we're supposed to be doing more interesting things, but I am a creature of habit and a cup of tea in the morning just isn't quite the same without the rustle of a paper or my iPad opened to a news site.
In a chicken and egg scenario, it is hard to tell whether there is no news to report because everyone has pressed pause on work and war to eat Christmas pud, or the work and war just isn't being reported because those required to do that are eating said Christmas pud.
Sadly, one has to conclude it is the latter. As much as one would wish for peace in Syria or an end to starvation in Africa for all eternity, at the bare minimum it would be nice if this could happen just for a few weeks over Christmas, when we're all supposed to be happy.
Unlike journalists, hatred and famine take no holiday, and it somehow seems unfair that a story of suffering that would have made headline news any other time of year might not now because the politicians are at their beach-front baches not talking about it, and ones who would seek out their opinion are four blocks back at the local campground.
But that is all over now, as the first wave of worker bees buzzed back into life on Monday 6th, and by Monday 13th, the news hive will again be at full hum.
Stories profiling New Year's Honours recipients and grandma's favourite ham glaze recipe are replaced by the "if-it-bleeds-it-leads" cut and thrust of murder, mayhem and political intrigue (or as close as we can get to it in a country where, thankfully, the closest we get to a political scandal is that a man (who just happens to be a mayor) has an extramarital affair).
Having only taken the statutory days off work, I've mooched around the empty CBD streets lately with a sense of mild resentment, and it is heartening now to see them once again filling up with sad-faced workers mourning the fact their leave balance is back to nil.
Mostly, it's just great to start the working day with a full newspaper stocked with stories of the world operating in all its miserable normalcy.
And of course you, dear readers (deprived for two long weeks of my random and often irrelevant ramblings), you can now sleep easy knowing your weekly insight into the inner workings of my mind is back in full swing for another year.
