“Don’t say that later will be better”
Well, I blame school for this one entirely.
As a child, we seemed to live for the holidays. Not just because it meant a few weeks without having to look at the maths teacher’s weird button earrings, or getting detentions for spreading rumours that the physics teacher had silicon bum implants that expanded when he leaned against the radiator at the front of the class, or even because on the last day of school we tended to do daft things like filling the Deputy Head’s office with balloons (all true, in our case), but because the holidays gave you a chance to regroup.
Among the holiday sleepovers, pirate parties and trips to a rat exhibition at the local museum (oh yes, we were the cool kids), I always had a chance to catch up, to re-evaluate how I was doing things, and to decide what needed to be different and make it so. Repainting my room lilac and yellow (LILAC… AND YELLOW!) was a very bad by-product of this, but it’s important to learn not all changes are good changes at some point or other.
I started to associate this metamorphosis-period with the holidays, and the holidays alone. So when, mid-way through term, I’d find things were getting on top of me, or I needed to change my gameplan when it came to my (home)work-life balance, or even when I just needed to tidy my bloody room, I’d automatically put it to the back of my mind until the holidays.
I’d wait for the time when I had time, and just muddle through until then, even if that meant I made life harder than it needed to be, and also even though this re-evaluating ate up a lot of my rat-exhibition/forming a girlband/writing-a-frankly-dreadful-musical-about-hairdressers time with friends when the actual holidays did turn up.
I left school almost six years ago now, so I no longer get such regular holidays (although, I plan to rectify this when I become QUEEN OF EVERYTHING.)
And yet: I still wait for the holidays to sort my life out. Time booked off work tends to end up NOT with relaxing, or even a cheeky trip away somewhere sunny with passionfruit margaritas on tap, but rather with fretting about how I’m going to sort my life out before ‘term’ starts again.
Christmas is the worst, because everyone else has time off too, and everyone else seems to spend it wondering what they can do today to make them feel proud, which quite frankly gnaws into the eat-party-fall over-sleep-repeat routine way too much.
So you want to quit the smokes (dodgy or otherwise), eat more green things, have more adventures, start writing a musical about hairdressers, whatever: why wait until January 1st to decide to do it? Why not do it the second you think of it and spend your January energy on a more fun start to your year? (I highly recommend rat exhibitions.)
Resolutions are fine, but waiting until New Year’s Day to implement them is a little bit mental when you’re just putting unnecessary pressure on one tiny period. Be Resolutiony whenever. Because, otherwise, what if you fail? Oh dear. You’re going to wait a whole year again, aren’t you. Give yourself a slap in the chops and go and sit in the corner.
Just like when you wake up to see it’s 8.21, and you have to wait until half-past before you get out of bed, putting off something you already know you want just wastes precious little segments of your life. Basically: get up when the alarm rings, silly.
Happy Sunday 1st, everyone. And thank you: this daft wee blog got 11,000 views last year. You’re all ace.