Other people don’t like you to enjoy yourself at this time of year. They poke you in the chest and ask about your resolutions.
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Even total strangers substitute resolution-talk for the weather and I don’t really want to tell the good-looking newsagent that in 2011 I’m going all out to avoid syphilis, at least until April.
Luckily, there’s a whole set of auto-responses for when people point the finger. More exercise is it? No, bad back. Cut down on the drink? But look at all this wine I got for Christmas! Watch less TV? So what will I do when I’m resting my back while glugging the wine?
One thing I do promise myself year-in-year-out is that I’ll take more advantage of what London has to offer. Then my Lazy Angel slobbers something about how much of a pain it is to get the last Tube home and back on goes the TV.
But this year, someone’s not playing fair. They’ve only gone and offered free hotel rooms when you buy a theatre ticket.. Maybe that nice newsagent will come with me if I resolve not to talk about STDs in the interval.
