The new year is beckoning… bright, shiny January, full of promise and fresh starts, and – for some reason – New Year’s resolutions. Every year, instead of acknowledging the truth (that January should be seen and not heard, like the badly behaved child of the calendar), we’ve all decided to assign the day we are most likely to be so hungover we can feel our livers, as the day we are going to commit to ‘improving ourselves’.
I just have one question. Why?
Who, in their infinite wisdom, decided we needed to. Now I’m not saying we didn’t overdo it a bit in December – but there is little to no sense in going from eating, drinking and making merry for a whole month, to living like a very sad monk for another.
