I really hate this time of year. The No-Man’s Land between Christmas and New Year is just really bloody depressing whichever way you look at it: rubbish weather, an extra layer of belly fat from the Christmas pig-out, a sore head from too much Christmas booze, an empty bank account at the end of December and no money on the way until the end of January, the pressure to get ratted yet again on New Year’s Eve, and, more than anything, the thought of yet another bloody year being a bloody little poor person. Who said money doesn’t bring happiness? Of course it does. Don’t be silly.
So this year, I’m going to make some New Year’s Resolutions with the objective of Cheering Myself Up rather than Being A Better Person. Let’s start with Resolution Number One, which for many, many years has been Lose Some Weight. But this year, I’m putting body fascism aside and resolving to buy bigger clothes instead. I was a Gym Bunny for most of my thirties and where did it get me? I am essentially pear-shaped, and after five or six years of sweating like a horse on the treadmills four times a week, guess what? I was still pear-shaped. Yes, my legs were toned for the first time ever, but my ribs stuck out and my boobs had gone. Not nice. So I’ve decided to sink gently into dumpy middle-age instead.
What I am going to do is to pay more attention to my clothes. I have an interesting wardrobe because I buy my clothes from charity shops, as I mentioned in a previous blog post, and over the last year or two I’ve managed to lay hands on some really pretty things, but do I wear them? No, not really. I stick to the same old outfits, partly out of habit, partly from a desire to stick to the combinations I know to be successful, but I have to say mostly because the clothes I throw on every day tend to be those garments that don’t need ironing. The pretty things I save for A Special Occasion, but somehow the occasions that do crop up from time to time never seem to be special enough, and before you know it, I’m chucking out that lovely skirt because even though I’ve only worn it twice, my bum won’t go in it anymore.
So, Resolution Number One: to be more adventurous with my clothes. This will involve planning the night before work, and possibly – yes, quite possibly – doing some ironing. But it’ll be like dressing-up every day – fun!
Resolution Number Two: to have more sex. That’ll cheer me up. It’s awful that we should have to make a conscious effort to make time for this sort of thing, but we both work so hard and get so tired…and before you know it, a fortnight’s gone past without so much as bottom-fondle. A very poor show. So what do we want? More snogging, more canoodling, more Ooo-Matron!
Resolution Number Three: to not feel guilty about playing Angry Birds. Everyone needs to relax, right? Lots of people relax by watching telly. I don’t watch telly. We have a telly, but I don’t know how to turn it on, and even if I managed to do so, I doubt I’d be able to find something to watch because the last time I owned a telly, my set had four buttons on it, one for each channel – BBC1, BBC2, ITV and Channel 4, and frankly, Channel 4 was a new-fangled Johnny-Come-Lately. So you watch telly, and I’ll play Angry Birds, and neither of us are going to feel guilty about it.
Resolution Number Four: to read more comics. Yeah. Because comics are great.
So there we have it. Four shiny new resolutions to see me through the coming year: dressing-up, sex, Angry Birds and comics. I’m feeling good about it already. All best wishes for 2013 and Happy New Year!