I Hate New Years Eve

I've been trying to remember a time when I enjoyed New Years Eve. I can't. For as long as I can recall I have had an almost pathological aversion to any kind of regimented fun. And New Years Eve has to be the top of the list when it comes to regimented fun . I'm a fly by the seat of my pants gal as you all know. I thrive on spontinaity. It's one of the things that I miss the most about my pre K (pre kids) life. You go out for a "quick" drink. You come home 2 months later with a dual citizenship and a spaniel puppy named Corky. That my friends, is fun. Fun sans frontiers.

Being told repeatedly that this year is going to be "the best ever", watching prepubescents snogging FULL TONGUE in front of a TV camera, and hearing all those damn "we had a tough year but somehow we made it" stories. Oh. My. God. Husband has to hide all sharp objects and buy extra Clos du Bois.

It starts at around 9:30. That's when people start wondering what the time is. "How long do we have?". Until what exactly? Until you can wow a whole room with your math prowess (you can count down as well as up!). Stop asking me what the bloody time is!

New Years Day, while everybody else nurses their hangovers, I work hard to crawl out of the deep depression that I have been sucked into by repeated conversations about weight loss, smoking, drinking, meat, chocolate, pork pies. Really? That's what the New Year means to you? Planning an entire year with no pleasure whatsoever?

Thankfully its over now for another year. I can now get back to my jolly happy go lucky self! And look forward to a great night out with some girlfriends. With NO PRESSURE at all to have fun, safe in the knowledge that with such a great group of ladies, how could I not? Cheers!