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MARY-JANE DUNCAN: It’s January, and reality bites

The positivity puzzle is occupying Mary-Jane.
The positivity puzzle is occupying Mary-Jane.

Well, well, well.  If it isn’t my ‘January jobs’ coming home to roost.

I concede.  Christmas January is gone and proper January is in full swing.

I miss Christmas January.  When the madness of the season has passed and there are no more presents to wrap.  Decorations lay strewn because they’ll be boxed back up at some point, no need to care yet.

Now that’s all over, stored away till December and in an effort to keep the house spick and span, I’ll have to ask the kids to go live somewhere else.

Christmas January

Christmas January means anything left in the food cupboards or on the booze shelf is fair game.  No more ‘don’t eat that, it’s for Christmas’.  Quality Street and Percy pigs for breakfast?  Knock yourself out.

Calories don’t exist until the first proper Monday of January and no, we don’t count the first Monday after New Year. Actually, we NEED to get rid of all the food.  Right now.

Before Proper Monday arrives and we miraculously morph into a whole new person.  A person inexplicably more health conscious than during their previous 40 years of existence.  Hmmm, but will I?

MJ is facing down January, health kicks and all.

My favourite workout is running away from my problems and instead of treating my body like a house I have to live in for another 40 years, I’m running an old motorhome covered in dents, scratches, faded paint work and bits missing.

Ironically, I am a fan of health kicks.  I always champion people jogging as I drive past.  Well done Sir!  Keep going Lady!  You’re doing great.

All this encouragement issued from the comfort of my driver’s seat.  And it’s given with genuine admiration and support.  Except in January.

January joggers?  No thank you.  January Joggers in shorts?  Behave yourself!  You’re either showing off or a masochist.  January joggers passing abandoned Christmas trees at the kerb?  That’s just too sad.  My endorsement will only begin once more when the lighter mornings draw in.

As for cyclists…

Suitably dressed cyclists are applauded too.  Those modern day, lycra-clad MLC cyclists, egged on by a partner who has run out of ideas for gifts.  Allow me to help here.

Fluorescent high visibility clothing people.  People.  Bright orange.  Blazing yellow.

Singular, teeny tiny flickering red lights whilst pedalling furiously clad head to toe in black, will not keep you safe.  Well done on your wholesome hobby, just please make sure you are appropriately attired.

MJ has firm views on cyclists’ gear, and it’s less about fashion and more about visibility.

Back to work for me.  I asked Alexa to cover my shift, she refused.  So, off I went with a fresh, reenergised hatred for the job.  Having lain awake the previous night thinking of ways to retire by the morning.  Nada.

Did you know there are people who just go to bed and sleep?  They don’t lie listing overdue witty comebacks or replaying every mistake they’ve ever made.

A parent’s life

They just go to sleep and then wake up <checks google again>…Refreshed?!  I just can’t.  It all sounds a bit fake to me.  Parents do not sleep, parents float in a state of semi-consciousness waiting for someone to need something.

My dreading work is a big fat untruth.  I love my job.  I love my staff.  And I love our community.

Welcoming back staff and customers, hearing festive stories, learning of good times.  Engagements.  New babies.  Surprise trips.  Or commiserating with them over any sorrow.

Just because it was Christmas, it doesn’t mean there isn’t grief.  Everyone has lost someone.

Kindness is the way

I am reminded, the simplest way to tell a struggling soul there is love to be found in this world is kindness, and I decide to also extend this to myself.

Hoping to unwrap a big box of restorative quiet, we cracked out games, took long walks searching for ginormous sticks and binge watched programmes.

Our Netflix has changed the message from ‘are you still watching’ to ‘you really need to switch off and go shower’.

There is a desperate need to not allow expensive boredom to creep into my downtime.  I suffer from ‘no-trip-phobia’; the fear of not having any trips booked.

Booking flights when unsupervised is a toxic trait of mine.  The answer to all my problems may not be on an all-inclusive Caribbean cruise with an excellent drinks package and tips included, but I should at least check.