MY FLATMATE summed up Christmas perfectly. “It sucks,” she said. “Why does anyone bother with it?”

We are now entering the so-called festive season and it is an absolute nightmare of which I intend to play no part whatsoever. Call me Scrooge but I don’t care.

Between now and January 1, 2020 it is all about over-indulgence, pure and simple with any religious connotations pushed firmly into the background unless you are planning to make a guilt-ridden trip to church on Christmas Eve.

Back in the day the Baby Jesus was presented with frankincense, gold, and myrrh to celebrate his birth and see him through his early childhood.

Believe me, that would not be good enough for kids these days because it would have to be a Playstation 4, assorted games and a tube of glue to affix their posteriors to the floor in front of the new 60 inch plasma screen in the front room to watch endless cartoons with a bucketful of teeth-rotting sweets near to hand.

Unfortunately, before Christmas gets into full swing we have Halloween when assorted brats dressed in costume knock on your front door and yell “trick or treat”.

Take my advice. Turn the lights off and refuse to answer the door.

They will all be back in front of the television by 8pm and peace can descend once more.

Then there is Bonfire Night when thousands of people stand in fields in the freezing cold to watch pyrotechnic displays. Well, fireworks scare my cats and I would be less opposed to them if they were confined to public events with a strict timeframe.

But they are not and therein lies the problem because there are unfortunately plenty of people who take great delight in holding their own private displays which invariably go on until the early hours and turn my marvellous moggies into gibbering wrecks.

Finally it is time to breathe a sigh of relief... it’s all over you think. But not for long because it is early November and Christmas is here already. You can’t avoid it no matter how hard you try.

Up go the festive lights, people adorn their houses and gardens with ever more garish gizmos and try and outdo their neighbours to become the biggest prat in the street.

Christmas carols should be banned.

If I was Boris Johnson I would ensure it was enshrined in the statute books. The punishment would be simple yet effective because carol singers would be forced by law to listen to I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day by Wizzard on endless repeat for an entire calendar year.

The frenzy of Christmas shopping to get those “perfect gifts” for your loved ones is already under way.

Just what you don’t want... having to put on a fake smile on the big day itself and exclaim “it’s just what I’ve always wanted” knowing full well you will be taking it back for a refund on Boxing Day.

I am not buying anyone a present this year. As far as I am concerned buying a present for someone you love should be spontaneous, not an obligation.

There will be no attending any pre-Christmas parties either. I can’t think of anything worse.

My flat will be Christmas free and that means no tree. Does anyone really want to be picking its needles up until March? No they do not unless they are a masochist.

No tinsel. No baubles. No cards and most definitely no seasonal Christmas food.

No matter how well cooked, turkey is truly terrible as are Brussel sprouts, both staples of the “traditional” Christmas dinner. Sadly 70 per cent of it will most probably end up in the bin as overstuffed festive diners collapse on to the nearest sofa, guaranteed to be comatose for the rest of the day or perhaps in perpetuity if they suffer a coronary.

I shall be spending Christmas Day alone and that suits me fine. My flatmate is currently on an extended break in her native Australia but had she been here we still wouldn’t have celebrated it which was exactly what we did last year.

The reason is simple. She is of Chinese heritage and therefore Christmas is deemed to be of very little consequence.

Chinese New Year is far more important and, unlike our version, does not involve getting fall down drunk.

Quite the contrary in fact, it is incredibly civilised. In February we went to Chinatown in central London to join the festivities, had a fabulous meal in genteel surroundings and then went home fully sated rather than stuffed to the gunnels.

Therefore my festive celebration will be on January 25 next year. Cheers to the Year of the Rat.