So, that’s out the way for another year…
Christmas, I mean.
Although the season brings cheer to many, Napoleon mutates – on first sniff of a mince pie – into the Grinch and is not restored to his affable self until the clock chimes on the twelfth night of Christmas.
It can make for a climate more implosive than the Middle East and calls for diplomacy much beyond my ‘I’m hungover/ The turkey is still raw after nine hours of cooking/ If my family were sold in a shop, I wouldn’t pick them off the shelf’ emotional state.
Thankfully, with my return to the office tomorrow – and the comforting normalcy of a ‘Work, Eat, Sleep’ routine – this period of enforced coexistence with Dr. Seuss’ (non) fictional character will draw to a close.
In the wake of a less than Hallmark-perfect Christmas, it would be madness beyond fathom to compound my disappointment with a list of impossible to keep – soon to be broken – New Year’s resolutions…
1. When Napoleon asks whether I might pass an editorial gaze over his PhD drafts, I will do so with the grace and good humour shown towards one of my authors. I will no longer (a) Sneer, (b) Snort, (c) Roll my eyes with teenage melodrama, or (d) Scrawl ‘This is Crap’ in the margins.
2. I will take up drinking. I’ve never been one to follow the flock and, with everyone else quitting firewater at this time of the year, there’ll be more to go around for me.
3. Having promised to do so many times, I will finally save my pennies for a Burberry trench and skip around smugly come the rain showers of April. April 2015, that is. Burberry coats are bloody expensive.
4. I will no longer compare myself to others. My low self-esteem is taking a holiday.
In the spirit of hope and turning over a new leaf, I had also thought to add one final resolution promising to update my blog more frequently…
But let’s keep things realistic, kids.