Like many people I vowed to start the new year on the right note. I'd eat better, drink less and exercise more. I promised myself I'd try to leave work on time in order cultivate the perfect work/life balance and to save my sanity. However, since the Christmas break I have felt permanently on the back foot, struggling to juggle an increasingly stressful job with a social life and failing to find any time for personal admin.
We are fat and skint and jaded in January, suffering from a physical and emotional festive hangover. The Sunday night dread feels more dreadful than ever and we scour job adverts for something new, something better. Then, before you know it the light mornings are tentatively tip-toeing in and it's halfway through February already. The list of friends I've not caught up with is as long as the cruel Scottish winter, and an unforgivable amount of unanswered texts lay heavy on my heart.
The beginning of the year is a bit like a Monday: it can feel long and relentless yet fraught and frantic all at once. It is often tinged with guilt about resolutions broken and chances not taken. But, it is the start of something. A year full of fun and friends and possibility. As the sun shines through my window today I am temporarily able to abolish my anxieties and look forward to the future. Bring on the Spring.
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