I find this stage just after the Christmas holidays very strange. I seem to get an overriding apathetic feeling, not really wanting to do anything except curl up and read or watch BBC Christmas TV, I mean did you see Mark Gatiss’ Dracula?
The holidays whirl past, a timeless period of glutton where our wine glasses are never empty, and our tummies are always full. Calorie-watching has no place in our household and we seem to have forgotten the meaning of cholesterol. It is the time of year when my mother finally let’s us get out more than one cheese at a time and the M&S party food keeps flowing.
Every year, before I finish work for Christmas I decide that this obscene amount of vacant time off must warrant a new skill learnt; I will learn Dutch I promise myself, or Russian. I will do yoga every day and start a novel. Whilst I am at it I might as well read War & Peace and take up a tapestry course. In reality, after the first twenty hours of doing nothing, taking baths until I am prune-like (I only have a shower at my flat in Amsterdam), and being offered lifts by my parents (I don’t have a car in the UK), I seem to actually manage to go back in time to being a teenager again, my parents doing my washing and cooking my food. What a magnificent time. I become the laziest I have ever been, I don’t achieve any of my ambitious personal goals and constantly wonder if this would be what my life would be like if I had an infinite supply of money. I meet up with old school friends and sleep in late. Yes, I definitely regress when I go home. I do worry that I would have been a blissfully happy aristocrat.
Getting back to the daily grind is really very difficult. My alarm feels like it is going off in the middle of the night (it doesn’t help that it is still dark outside), and being productive feels like something I am no longer capable of. There was a day when even leaving the house made me feel a bit wobbly. I have tiptoed back into the gym and have been feeling the effects of my first class on 2020 for three days. Walking is painful. I am thankful my manager is abroad at the moment to not see me in this sorry state. For those out there who are getting back into the “regular” week with some resistance, I hear you.