Sun, 1 Jan

Now that’s an auspicious date to revive something like this, right? A Sunday--the first day of the week, whether you like it or not--on the first day of the first month of a year?

For the past couple of days, too, I’ve been diligently clearing out the old, making plans to deal with all the work and the personal things (sample to-do list entries: UPDATE THE METADATA FFS; BOOK YOUR SMEAR OMG). As of the first Sunday in the first week of the first month of the year, my inboxes are zero, my tasks are neatly set out in Things, waiting for me to acknowledge them. (Some of the Things have been waiting for several months, but now they really believe they will have their day.)

My husband wants to be vegetarian for the next month; he says we have had an indulgent Christmas and New Year. Little did he know I was thinking of being vegan-at-home (that’s a lifestyle choice, right?). I’ve had more dairy over the Christmas period of 2022 than I’ve had in the year previous.

Why? We’re away “skiing” in a resort with, now, no snow and 14C days. We ate lunch in t-shirts and sunglasses today. We are staying in a chalet, warmed rather unnecessarily by a roaring log fire and with furry curtains on the windows. And this chalet comes complete with private French chef. His food is astonishingly good. I wake every night at 2am to listen to my stomach sobbing hysterically about how it’s supposed to work under these conditions. My oat milk latte, my oat milk latte, why hast thou forsaken me?!