I have come to a very distressing realisation recently and I have been pondering whether or not I should share it with our loyal readers.
I use ‘distressing’ because it really shook me. I don’t quite know how to process it.
But, I will not keep you in suspense. In 81 days’ time (if I counted correctly), we are going to celebrate Christmas. Yep, that’s right, in 80 days, you will have screaming children, or grandchildren, eagerly waiting for the countdown to attack those presents you bought with much love, took hours to wrap in pretty colours and bows, and rip them apart.
In less than 80 days, you would have started to prepare for the big Christmas dinner, break the bank to buy all the necessary goods and invite all the guests who is going to leave your beautiful, clean house in a complete chaotic mess. You will spend days after the party still cleaning up the wine stains, washing dishes, doing laundry and hoping someone will finish the last scraps of food because you have enough leftovers to last you till next year (which coincidentally is only six days away). For weeks after the party you will still find streamers and pieces of wrapping paper under the furniture.
You are going to hate yourself for indulging in too much food, alcohol and all things sweet. All those sinful delights will keep you awake at night while you plan a diet and exercise programme to lose all the weight before you start working again. But, in the back of your mind you know there is no way you will ever wear sweat pants in public.
And if that is not enough, you have a pile of invites from friends, colleagues and family to their New Year’s bash, waiting for a reply, only six days after you have sworn you would never eat of drink anything ever again. Yep, we are entering the silly season. Good luck.
Until next week, take care of one another.
Ciao
