We are working harder than ever, they say. And that doesn't even include the commute to darkest Kildare which only takes four hours if the Bray Water-pipe Monster hasn't struck.

Well, I don't believe a bit of it. This country is on a perpetual holiday, if not physically then mentally. If you want to work, set up a business. Everyone else?

Take Five.

I love November. It is the last 'normal' month. The other normal months are September and October, and February to May.

Then the ridiculous summer happens, when the whole country seems to go on holiday and Radio One gets good (but television goes awol) and of course, August, where the Mothers of the Disappeared Plumbers answer their son's phones and say "He's in Rush for two weeks". "That's the only Rush he'll ever be in, " you think and don't say.

And now we have Christmas, that massive waste of time. As much a waste of time as watching Lost, driving northbound on the M50 or reading Lord of the Rings, Christmas has been foisted upon us like stamp duty by a clever combination of the Church, the Retailer, the Vintners and the Turkey Guy.

And like Pigs and Turkeys all around the country, the sound of 'Pa-Rop-A-Pom-Bom' being sung by that family pugilist Bing Crosby in the local Spar fills me with dread.

Not only that, but everyone seems to go on a holiday of the mind where work, productivity and thriftiness go out the window.

I've complained about this before, I know, but let's be honest. After seeing the tax coming out of my account last week I'm about as ready for Christmas as Cat Stevens.

But all the PAYE 'You-Tubers' (people who sit in the office all day squandering electricity) are on a 30-day bender. All they can think about is the office party, Christmas Eve, New Year's Eve and the delights of travelling home on Bus Eireann . . . the service that likes to say 'Don't eat or drink at least 16 hours before you get on this bus'.

I say all of this out of a little personal resentment. You see, Christmas is the busiest time of the year for myself and lots of people in the music biz. I gig pretty much every night in December . . .sometimes twice or three times . . . so I don't get a Christmas really.

I even gig Christmas Eve morning on Grafton Street and there was a threat one year of us doing an old folk's home in Carlow on Christmas Day but it fell through, sadly.

As I play mostly for office parties in hotels around town I have seen the effects of the Christmas party. The men look like Christy Moore doing the marathon with a tie around his head. The women's bare feet in tatters as they dance around the handbag.

I enjoy it and it's all good fun, but are they productive during the day?

All over the land workers are speeddealing with all their deadlines so they can practically take the month off. Oh sure, it's into the office for a few hours each day until someone says "Pint?". I can't really do that since I'm driving every evening with 15 minutes to get from one place to another . . .although if rogue elements in Fine Gael have their way I should be able to get plastered every night. Only joking, obviously.

Now don't get me wrong . . . Christmas is good for business . . . and I thank the Lord for the opportunity to take much of January off (well, there's no gigs). But the masses of money generated on pretty useless stuff can be shocking. And all that time wasted shopping and carousing produces nothing but a massive hangover and a house full of clutter.

I am in awe of that person who invents the horrible plastic thing that sells two million units at Christmas and can take the year off, but it sorely tests the Gaia hypothesis.

And if you are in business, Christmas is one long headache followed by three days of thinking about the next week's sales tribulations.

The week after Christmas I usually do a couple of weddings (such great, lifeshortening timing) and then the New Year's Eve debacle takes place, just as everyone should be calming down, battening down the hatches and thanking Jesus he only has one birthday.

God! I sound like the ungrateful git that wants to kill the Golden Goose, don't I?

But when you work in a ridiculous business 24/7 you start wondering why everyone wants to have that much fun all the time.

Listen up, human resources people! We are crucifying our livers!

There has to be more to life than the pub and shopping. I say work your people hard, so hard they have to stay late and miss the party.

I am willing to sacrifice my successful month for your health, people of Ireland.

Actually, on second thoughts, I hear it's much cheaper to have your Christmas Party in early January. And there's this great band. . .

Paddy Cullivan will be performing 'Ireland 2016: the musical' at the Leviathan Debate chaired by David McWilliams at Crawdaddy on Thursday 14 December at 8pm