January to most people falls into two categories. For some it’s a month where everything starts fresh; there’s a surge of activity, active-ity, clean living, focus and drive (however short lived). For others the first month is a sort of thirty one day hangover. There’s a lack of money, willpower and daylight. It’s like a month of Mondays. Or that feeling on Sunday late afternoon where you realise it’s the end of the weekend and nothing but one sleep that never fails to feel too short separating you from work.
Unfortunately, for the most part I belong to the latter group of people. I sat at my desk this morning (brief aside for current thought ‘oh shit it’s only Monday night FUCK SAKE’) and just sighed. No amount of coffee could distract from the sudden realisation that this is the first full working week of the year. Another year’s worth sitting behind a desk. Playing with numbers. Well. Studiously avoiding playing with numbers, reading random Wikipedia articles. But still there’s a long time to go before some time off arrives.
There is one saving grace to January. Two, really. See it happens to be both mine and my brother’s birthdays. 6th and 13th. I’ll leave it a mystery who get’s the lucky Friday 13th birthday. Anyway. We know how to have a good debauch. But it does feel like though we do get to have some fun in January, it just shows even more how miserable some people get for the month. Properly miserable I mean, not like my mid-twenties-teenage-angst vibe. Enjoy yourselves for fuck’s sake. I get that it’s hypocritical for me, who complains about having an un-challenging but stable job, pretty partner, roof over my head, etc. to say this, but crack a beer open and stare at the sunset or something. Open a book in front of the fire. Grab a mate and go bowling. Anything that takes away the January blues.
In other news, I’m finding the lack of a cheap and dirty taco takeout in the UK a bit irritating. If somebody could fill that niche that would be great. (HINT: it should rhyme with Baco Tell)