January

January, January. Didn't there use to be some horrible pop song that went like that? Or was it January, February? I think it was sung by Barbra Dickson (I think that's how it's spelt. Or spelled?) Imagine being called Barbra. Horrible name. Anyway, January. There's not really much to be said about January except that it comes as a relief after December, in some ways, and then again, in other ways, not. Because January is also usually pretty vile. I like that word. Susie uses the word vile quite a lot. E-viles she says sometimes. Anyway, January, I'm repeating myself, but it's one of those months when everybody is supposed to be filled with resolution and new start mania, and going to the gym and eating less and all that kind of thing, and it always reminds me of that expression "p*ssing into the wind' - that you can do all that stuff but it's STILL JANUARY. It's still blooming freezing and dark and difficult and a bit dull when it's not horribly stressful. Just going to the shops can really take it out of you.

So although I'm not as bad as all the doom-people on the TV news just now (about the awful world news - or those economic correspondents who are looking so bouncy and smug these days) who keep repeating 'recession, recession, recession', like it was some awful new reality tv game show thing we all had to join in with, still, I am not exactly bouncing with cheerfulness. January can't be cured. January can't be fought off with biscuits alone. January is a month long endurance test. B*gger January.

Not that February is much better, with blooming St Valentine's Day date right smack in the middle of it!!! Hello, just reminding you that you are supposed to be all paired up and swoony and romantic and seeing things through rose-tinted spectacles. Hm. No, too early in the calendar year for any roseyness, sorry.

Maybe a biscuit would help, on a temporary basis. I wonder if there are any pink biscuits that are nice...