“The day breaks, your mind aches …”
I know Paul McCartney was chronicling the decline of a relationship in the song ‘For No One’, but he could equally have been talking about January 1st in general. Depending on how last night was, this could be a rough one.
With any luck, you’ve grown out of New Year’s Eve and avoid it like a particularly rowdy and weighed-down-with-expectations plague. But if, on the off chance, you are foolishly still chasing the dragon of New Year’s Eve Craic it’s possible that today is, to quote Shakespeare or someone else “a bit ropey”.
Winter is of course a terrible time to have a New Year’s day. In Australia, it’s merely a bit of diary buying and remembering to put 2018 on your homework or cheques before going to out to do some sort of disgustingly healthy outdoor activity.
But as the old recession adage goes, we are where we are (if you are where I am). Today is about little victories. Removing the discarded teabags of annoyance from the sink of life. Speaking of sinks, here’s a household tip.
If the dishwasher is full/doesn’t exist on New Years Day, why not do remaining/all washing up first thing. It turns out to be much more therapeutic than shouting at the plates and blaming them for everything else that has gone on in your life, I have found.
Embrace a washing up situation like it was a New Years Day dip in the cold ocean, without all the bother of going to the ocean or having to raise money for charity. And it keeps your hands warm.
It’s essential to go to the bottle bank as soon as possible or once you’re under the limit. This is part of the healing process. It’s not as depressing as it sounds. It’s probably the only time of year when your clanking cardboard box of shame will not stand out as being alone.
Even the most respectable people ever — vicars, public health nurses, anaesthetists, actuaries, firemen — will also be stepping blearily out of cars with boxes of debauch.
The next thing to do is to not make any hasty promises to yourself. There is a temptation for some to swear off drinking forever/a while. But now is not the time for that decision. New Year’s Day might as well be December 32nd for the relevance it has to January.
You need to place no pressure whatsoever on it. And if that means having a pint with a carvery so be it. But open a new drink. The left over bottle may contain shattered hopes and dreams.
In fact January 2nd, the worst Tuesday in the history of Tuesdays, should also be a day for breakfast rolls and Wispas. You can pull a muscle if you try to be virtuous to quickly.
Put on your nicest socks. There maybe even be new ones from Christmas. I’m no reflexologist but I bet if I was one I’d say that wearing new socks on your feet will heal the digestion. There is a chance that, over Christmas, you’ve been wearing the same socks for about 72 hours.
I’m not saying that’s something I’d do, because I was cold and I didn’t want to wake the baby going to bed so just got in fully clothed. Not me. But I heard others have. If you do do this, don’t forget to take the 10 seconds of pleasure that comes from scratching the sock-line. But don’t overdo it.
There’s a fine line between scratching an itch and sock-line bleeding. Also at some point in the day, check whether you’ve accidentally still got your pyjamas on under your outdoor clothes.
If so, put on a scarf to prevent the tartan clashing with your good coat.
And don’t worry, you’re nearly there. Although this is a morning paper, it’s probably nearly already evening by the time you’ve got around to chancing a read. January 1st is nearly over and it’s time for the second day of the rest of your life.
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