You know what I’m sick off?
All these articles,adverts and Instagram folk telling me that just because it’s December it doesn’t mean it’s ‘too late’. Too late for what? You may ask. It’s not too late to decide that 2015 is your year, grab it by the horns and go and do some crazy jumping squat excersises in the gym. It’s not too late to spring clean my entire house,take up a new hobby or finally start knitting.
Well I tell you what, it bloody is.
I’m knackered. It’s this time of year where my full sloth rears it’s beautiful, uncombed head and banishes me to evenings full of lying on the sofa watching The Mindy Project and eating Kettle Chips. I don’t make the rules and I really do try my hardest to keep fully grown up-ing but as the nights get longer and the variety of christmas goodies get larger, I just can’t help myself.
My instagram becomes stocked up with pictures of fluffy socks and weird animal slippers (I actually own 2 pairs of reindeer slippers). I’m more inclined to onesie and dressing gown combo, more than I ever have been before. I start abiding by the childhood rule that if it’s getting dark, I should probably get home. If I do have to venture out it’s only to stock up on wine or soup supplies. Suddenly the idea of winter vegtables and cocoa (seperately) appeals to me more than your finest gourmet burger (and gourmet burgers are ,y favourite).
So after years of never really understanding this seasonal change in persona, I’ve finally realised that just like Micheal Buble appears from his 10 month slumber just before christmas, so does my inner sloth. And I’m definitely not the only one, where’s your’s hiding?