30. WILDCARD: Why I Hate January, the BASTARD.

Out of my window, if I look to the horizon and squint and squish my nose right up against the glass, I can just about see February approaching. And all I can think is ‘THANK JEEBUS FOR THAT’. January, quite frankly, can fuck right off. I’ve had it up to bloody here with January.

To be fair, January has a hard act to follow: December is pretty smug bitch, basking as it does in all the reflected glory of Christmas, with parties, presents, twinkly lights, adorable little children with teatowels on their heads singing Away in a Manger, not to mention all those glorious days off work. But does it really have to be such a sodding miserable git?!

Not only is January home to the most depressing day of the year in the form of Blue Monday, it’s also apparently the month in which relationships are most likely to break down, as well as apparently containing the poorest day in most years. Then there’s tax returns, VAT rises, and Dancing on Ice. It’s a wonder any of us make it through to the 31st, if I’m honest.

The worst thing about Januarys for me, however, is the despair of the New Year’s Resolution. Every year, December 31st taunts us with its bright hopes for the year ahead, its drunken promises that ‘Thish’ll be the year for me, oh yeshhh, I got BIG PLANSH!’ before you fall into the plant pot and stagger off to fetch another baileys.Then you wake up under the Christmas tree on January 1st and realise that nothing has changed, but DON’T WORRY – you’re going to make it change.

Only not today, cos you’re hungover. And tomorrow you’ve got to do the Big Shop, or replace all the cleaning products/nail varnish remover you drunkenly thought would definitely remove the wine stain made the night before. And the day after that it’s back to work, and then you’ve got to take the decorations down, but then, THEN you shall sit down and start trying to sort your life out just like you promised. Except you forget, or it’s Aunt Hilary’s 70th birthday party, or the dog needs a bath, or the insurance needs renewing, or something needs grouting or whatever blah blah blah.

Basically, you realise that all this time you were sure would magic itself into existence once the new calendar goes up on the wall turns out to be time that is filled with the same crap as last year. And by the end of month, January has wrung just about every last drop of self-delusion from your sorry soul. And it’s just about now – the point where the newness that January fills us with is just about to be stamped out by the fact that a whole month has gone by – that you have to decide whether to start your efforts again or give into the same old same old and the next episode of Dancing on Ice. I’m horrified just typing that.

Sometimes, I think we should have New February Resolutions. They’d be a nifty little back-up. That way, January can be the Ghost of Year Future and you can see how mundane and disappointing your year might become if you don’t start doing the stuff you planned you would on New Years Eve.

January has been a massively eventful month, but it hasn’t quite gone to plan (as you can probably tell from all the ranting). I’m using today’s blog to announce that January 2011 was just my trial run. I’m definitely going to be more productive from now on. Well, right after lunch, anyway…

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One thought on “30. WILDCARD: Why I Hate January, the BASTARD.

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