When I woke up this morning, at silly O'clock, even the birds were struggling to make their dawn singing sound enthusiastic. They tweeted, "Get up. Get up. Can I go back to sleep? It's dark. It's cold. It's enough to make you weep!" Even the doves are hiding in the beer aisle of the supermarket, refusing to believe it's all over.
For many people this will be the second day of leaving the house in the dark. They will have put their watch back on (not wearing my watch is my favourite thing about the Christmas holidays). It will be extra hard this year because so many people will have had the whole festive period off. It's wet and grey and suddenly it seems to be colder. People complain that global warming was meant to stop it being cold in winter. The Christmas pudding, pies and cake are sitting heavily in the stomach, the Christmas booze is finally working its way out of the system and the feeling of biliousness is enhanced by the dread of a healthy eating and exercise campaign. Days are counted: Six weeks until half term, 12 weeks until Easter, one day until the day when the wise men finally reached the baby Jesus and we have to make sure that last Christmas bauble is stored away for fear of bad luck, 66 days until summer and only another 354 days and 17 hours until Christmas.
The solution, for most people, is to dream of holidays. TV adverts will tell us that we need to book our place at the tropical adult camp and the world will google, pin and post pictures of Bora Bora.
I'm sure I'm alone but I don't really like the look of Bora Bora. It's name sounds like boring boring and looks a bit dull, so I'm going to put my waterproofs on an take the dog for a muddy walk in the woods.
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