It’s a dry January alright. No, I don’t mean outside. Our first week of 2016 has been characterised by near-constant rain. I haven’t left the house yet, mainly because I can’t swim. Also, there’s no way I’m going out there in a bikini. My goosebumps will have goosebumps.
And before anyone gets incredulous, I haven’t given up drinking either. Truth be told, I can’t go teetotal without offending someone in the process. My family bought me enough booze for Christmas to incapacitate a yak. (I did have to Google ‘how much alcohol would incapacitate a yak’ for this. No relevant results, funnily enough. Really hoping nobody ever sees my search history…)
What I mean is, things have started to dry up this January. My ideas. My skin. My hair. My collection of decorative soaps. My energy levels.
The start of a new year usually brings out misguided enthusiasm in people. January is touted as a time for positive, ambitious changes. Look around you right now. I bet you can see find friends and family signing up for gym memberships, bulk buying veggies, and investing in yoga pants.
So far, 2016 has had the opposite effect on me. The winds of change have been taken right out of my sails. The prospect of what this year could potentially bring has terrified me into doing nothing.
I’m not embracing the ‘new me’ to start the year. There is no ‘new me’. Just the ‘old me’, the one who puts brandy in her coffee and thinks chips count as a veg portion. If you think you spot me anywhere near a sports centre, then you’ve discovered my evil doppelganger and you should email me immediately.
There is some hope for me yet, because here I am writing for you lot again. The ‘old me’ writes, that’s never going to change. I could have elected to hide under the duvet and pretend that I don’t need to work. Ha. Fat chance of that.
Which camp are you in this January? Are you raring to go, or just ready to go back to bed? Tell us about it on Twitter and we’ll RT some of our favourites.
