A very happy new year to you all. Here’s hoping you have all survived the festive period fairly unscathed.
Not sure about you but I have read more than enough on how if we eat buckets of avocado, kale and or spinach you’ll find your abs again by Easter. January is also the month when celebs shamelessly bring out a fitness video guaranteeing you a toned and trimmed body in 12 days and every magazine cover promises to makeover your career and your life by reading a few of its glossy shiny pages over a cup of coffee.
This is the month when every man and their dog decides this will be their year. They’ll drink less, they’ll overhaul their diet and their life and they’ll spend a fortune on gym wear which their wardrobe will get more wear out of.
Admittedly on January the 1st I thought I would trial a Dry January. Having not been able to indulge last Christmas I certainly made up for it on Hogmanay. However it turns out nursing the hangover from hell and looking after a small human being is not so fun.
I clearly wasn’t thinking straight as over the course of the day I conjured up a huge list of New Years resolutions, which I’m not even going to dignify by writing down here.
So four days into the new year and as it has rained every day since we welcomed in 2016 I am reminded that this is the longest, darkest and most depressing month of the year, so all resolutions have been hit on the head and buried. The pressure to create a new you for the new year is unnecessary.
Instead of trying to be the most perfect supermum ever to have graced the earth, with a sparkling clean home, a domestic life which a Miliatry General would be mightily impressed by and a social diary fit to burst, we’re going to take each day as it comes.
Looking back is no good and trying to plan too far ahead and worrying about what might happen, prevents you from enjoying what you’re lucky enough to already have – love, health & happiness. And as for a Dry January, this is another unnecessary pressure.