Ugh, it’s that time of year again when we all feel so guilty about those cheese binges and the fact we’ve mainlined chocolate all month and only got up off the sofa to reach for the remote or another handful of Quality Street, that we decide next year we’ll be the poster girl (or boy) for health and wellness.
New Year is, perhaps, my least favourite time of year. We’ve been nemeses right from the start since, 32 years ago, I was born on December 30, which is one of the worst days to be born.
“Hey guys! Who wants to go out on the day before the biggest night out of the year?” You see? I was never destined to like New Year’s Eve.
I won’t even mention how annoying it is to buy tickets to bad parties, wait for taxis a ridiculous amount of time and end up with nobody to kiss at midnight and have to try and style it out anyway by looking as though you’re having the time of your life singing Auld Lang Syne (which I never remember the words to).
But, apart from the fact it takes the attention away from me on the only day of the year that should, by rights, be all about me, the worst thing about New Year is the guilt of indulgence, the bulges that no longer even pretend to fit into your jeans and the knowledge that January is going to be miserably filled with yoga mats, smoothie makers, saving money and hopefully eating bland salads, then miserably poking your belly flab immediately after (to see if said salad has worked yet).
Being the natural born rebel I am, I haven’t made those depressing resolutions that are intended to make you hate yourself enough to buy all those products that promise to help you lose 10lbs in 10 days without even having to catch a tropical, life-threatening illness.
And it’s just a coincidence I bought a yoga mat yesterday. No, instead, I have made resolutions that will help me become a cooler person (oh, don’t judge me. It feels pretty fun to tell people a little fact about yourself and have them do that distinctive impressed-eyebrow-raise) and simultaneously help me burn off a mince pie or two. There are also a few non-flab related resolutions because there’s more to life than my big bum.
In short, despite my dislike for New Year, I’ve got totally caught up in it all again.
I’m going to learn to row, win a women’s powerlifting competition, visit three new countries, finally start my fitness blog and learn to make textile jewellery. Even as I type the last one, I know I won’t do that one.
New Year is just a change of date and, although I know that and I roll my eyes at all the marketing around it, I still get caught up in it. 2015 was a bit nuts; I started the year working as an editor of a luxury online magazine in Bangkok and living with my boyfriend and dog. I end the year single, dog-less, living in Amsterdam and working for an ad agency. This change of date does make you reflect on your life a bit.
Whatever 2016 holds, one thing I can be pretty sure of is that, by the time New Year comes around again, I’ll have The Chocolate Guilts.
