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Wednesday 21 January 2015

THE THING ABOUT JANUARY


So here’s the thing:  January gets a lot of stick.  No two ways about it.  It doesn’t help that it has to follow Christmas, and then New Year.  Plus most of us are strapped for cash and carrying a little (a lot) of what my best friend calls ‘holiday weight.’  But most of all, there just isn’t anything to look forward to.  February has Valentine’s day which, love it or hate it, is at least a smiley/sad face on the calendar.  March, April and May shotgun Mother’s Day and Easter while by June (if the British seasons are behaving themselves) we are all so jacked up on vitamin D and patchy pinkish tan lines that we can handle anything.  September is still filled with barbeques and last minute Easyjet tickets, October grabs Halloween and then the fireworks are rounded up for November.  And then comes Christmas. Glorious, pleasure-filled, decadent Christmas.  Sigh…


January is derived from the Latin for ‘door.’  Most appropriate what with it being the door to a new year and all.  However, if Christmas is a magnificent garland-draped portal strewn with flashing lights and bursting with trees and presents, then January is the shabby backdoor cousin letting in the draft.  It is no wonder that none of us are eager to go through that battered excuse for a door, while all that is waiting for us are tight clothes, relative poverty and nothing to soften the blow of returning to the monotony of work.  We all feed off each other’s lethargy.  If anyone so much as mentions the dreaded term ‘Christmas blues,’ our shoulders drop and all leftover glitter becomes a rash-inducing irritant.  


So what is to be done?  First of all, don’t join a gym.  This will only lead to an unnecessary snowball of depression at the end of January when you realise you have paid £100 for what was essentially one gym session and 3 sauna sweats over the space of a week.  If you want to exercise then go for a walk. Your bank account will not recriminate you at the end of every month for the rest of the year if you stop walking.  Ditching the excess choccies (or eating them all in one sitting to get them out of the house) and lowering the daily alcohol intake provoked by festive cheer will immediately improve your waistline.  Then cut some carbs, ditch the morning tea break treat and you’ll be back to resembling yourself more than good old St.Nick.  


Now you are not dreading the results of festive plumping, it is time to cultivate the barren wasteland of your events calendar.  If your friends and family are selfish enough not to provide you with birthdays and anniversaries as an excuse to dress up, step up and take responsibility for your own social proliferation.  Start a book club!  It is a great way to kick the guys out and share an evening every fortnight with your favourite girls over wine and nibbles (I would say every week but for said waistline concerns.)  You will soon discover that the actual book discussions take a back seat (and I mean a bus back seat) to gossip and general merriment.  


Get your nearest and dearest involved in your improve-your-mood mission as the Christmas blues epidemic can spread if not vaccinated with smiles and positive thoughts.  Hippies aren’t completely full of nonsense when they preach about healthy spirits leading to healthy minds.  Scientists have proven that the act of smiling releases endorphins which make you happy.  So do it anyway!  Do not allow post-Christmas lethargy to infect your social circle and make a conscious decision to dispel negativity by arming yourself with smiles.

The door of January might not be as overtly camp-tastic as it’s Christmas cousin, but don’t be afraid to grasp the handle and happily stride through to next year.  After all, the number ‘one’ has plenty of positive connotations as well.  I once saw a news report about a young lad who had taken his parents’ garden shed and turned it into an insanely opulent den for himself.  I’m talking crystal chandeliers, velvet upholstery, marble fountain, the works.  Although I’m sure this would be an effective metaphorical microcosm for any number of life lessons, my point is that he left the exterior completely bare.  He felt that the interior was rendered all the more impressive because it was so unexpected in relation to the battered, splinter-riddled nature of it’s threshold.  The door of January might look unimpressive, but who knows what lies on the other side…?

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