Recently, I was out on an adult-only evening which involved completing a meal in its entirety, whilst simultaneously engaging in civilised conversation, when my very adult friend asked if I would like to join her new book club. A book club? [I scoffed]. Now there’s a laugh. Isn’t that where grown-ups meet on a regular basis to unlock the hidden depths and common threads running through mutually selected texts, whilst nibbling on fancy flavoured nuts and tippling on tiny tots of sherry? My very adult friend took a sip of her robust-looking red, whilst I choked on my neon-looking pop and declined her invitation promptly. Captain Underpants and the Attack of the Talking Toilets would be lost on her club.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m feeling the pressure.
A pressure that can only be experienced at the turn of each year. One that has matured over time, this pressure is no longer about securing a drunken pub-lic snog or even whether or not I manage to stay awake until the clock strikes twelve. It’s about a whole lot more than this transient and seriously overrated moment. It’s about the year ahead of me and what the hell I’m going to do with it. But as Big Ben bashes it out and fancy fireworks flood the sky, I wilfully fling myself so far into the Land of Nod, that I just don’t give a toss. Well, for now anyway. Continue reading “362 Day Resolve”