Between Christmas and New Year I can't get off my bed

Saw a meme-y thing floating around Facebook the other day. It said 'When all you can do between Christmas and New Year is wonder who you are, and how you got here'. 

It's true. 

I'm a miserable, exhausted, un-exercising, un-cello-practicing mess. I'm on my bed, ignoring everyone, feeling guilty for not Cleaning or Tidying or Organising or Getting the Christmas Tree Down. Instead I'm playing Solitaire, colouring in, reading Lee Child's latest thriller (spoiler: Reacher kills the bad guys) and occasionally venturing outside for a little bit of breeze on my face. 

Turned on my computer yesterday and felt ill, so turned it off again. Cooked something that might loosely be called 'dinner' last night. Everyone complained. I let them eat cereal instead.

Soon, maybe, I'll emerge from the fog and haze and announce Intentions and Resolutions and Things to Be Done. Plans, and such. You know, for the New Year. But not just yet. I just need a couple more hours of napping and a few more days of patting myself on the back for getting through a pretty challenging year before everything starts again. I'll be back soon enough. I just need these few days of No Man's Land, where no one expects me to be anything, or do much at all. 

I'd finish this blog post, but to be honest, I couldn't be bothered. I'm going to go back to bed.

 

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