AND, lo, the angel brought good news. There was a baby in a manger somewhere (blah, blah, blah), follow the star (yeah, yeah, whatever), wise men, son of God (u-huh, u-huh), but even better than that, she had finished her Christmas shopping. Hurray!

Are you feeling as smug as me at the moment? If memory serves me right, it's the same feeling you get when you've finished your homework without having to stay up half the night popped up on Quavers and Sunny Delight or when the boss gives you a Friday deadline and you waltz in on Thursday with a completed file under your arm and a nauseating smile of self-congratulation on your face.

Yes, my festive friends, for the first time ever I have finished my Christmas shopping before Christmas Eve. Perhaps someone should alert Norris McWhirter. Perhaps it's not too late to have it written into the Queen's Speech. Perhaps I should sit down with a mug of mulled wine and a deep-filled mince pie before I get overcome with the excitement of it all.

If, like my mother, you are one of those people who always studiously stocks up on gifts well in advance (when I last checked I think she had just bought the last stocking filler for Christmas 2010), then you will probably have become immune to the euphoria some years ago.

Buying that last Christmas gift with days (weeks, months) to spare won't have the same impact on you as it does on serial last-minute shoppers like me. You probably simply tick it off your alphabetised list, pop the list into your "completed tasks" file and store it away under lock and key in your "Christmas 1995 to the present day" filing cabinet.

But as I made my last purchase on Friday (nine whole days before Christmas - wow!) I can honestly say I almost wept with joy. Thankfully, however, I managed to contain myself, letting out a small, almost imperceptible "whoop" instead. Although even that came as a bit of a surprise to the lady on the till at Borders.

As I strolled back towards Coppergate, I began to wonder if this "completing a task with time to spare" malarkey could be my new life strategy. Could 2006 be the year when I stop skidding under the wire at the last minute and begin a systematic plan of action, ticking off life's events with time to spare, instead?

But that was before I met the Ghost Of Christmas Present in the loo at Fenwick's and heard her cautionary tale.

"Thank goodness it's not windy today," said the ghost, cunningly dressed as an elderly lady. "My hair is completely uncontrollable when it's windy."

She then fluffed up her soft, white hair in a strikingly vivid demonstration which left her looking like a cross between a dandelion clock and Ken Dodd. "So, my dear, all ready for Christmas?" she continued, momentarily forgetting to pat down her puffed up hair.

"Actually, yes I am," I replied, momentarily forgetting to pat down my puffed up ego. "What about you? Are you ready for the big day?"

"I am, my dear, I am," she said. "I managed to get all my shopping done in November. My presents were bought and wrapped and ready to go by December 1."

"Wow," I said. "That's pretty impressive."

"It would be, my dear, if only I could remember what any of them are," the elderly shopper said, with a mildly bewildered smile. "I'm going home now to unwrap them all again."

You see, sometimes you can be too organised. You can get so far ahead of yourself you forget what on earth you're supposed to be celebrating in the first place.

So why not put your feet up for five minutes and have a cup of tea. Heck, crack open a packet of HobNobs while you're about it. Then you can help me find my St Valentine's Day "to do" list.

Updated: 08:26 Monday, December 19, 2005