Oh January,

You big piece of arse!!

To me, January feels like a massive pile of Ebenezer Scrooge’s shit, forcing itself up your nose and pulling out the remaining Christmas spirit you felt a mere few weeks ago!

December offers a whole world of fantasy euphoria, slightly masking reality. Everyone is happy, Christmas is coming…blah, blah, blah

And then, the 2nd of January rises up like a nightmare of harsh reality.

We feel like Violet Beauregarde.

Everyone is skint, stretching an already stretched pay cheque from 4 weeks to 5 weeks.

Everyone is going back to work, looking like zombies, no one knows what day it is, when do the kids go back? Are the shops open yet?

We walk around like a collective bundle of confused sheep! Bleating in unison but not understanding a word. Our focus takes the whole month to return, even though we desperately cling on to the joy of Christmas.

January means grumpiness and annoyance eats away at us and everything that exists.

Basically, most of the human race have PMT in January!

Especially when there are a select few who are just too happy for the cold, dreary January. I have a few friends* getting married this year and as much I love them to pieces, I have kindly asked them to steer their sicking happiness away from me! (Only half joking)

When they call me up to say they got engaged, they expected an appropriate squeal in response; instead I gave them Annie from Bridesmaids – ‘What is happening?’

*you know who you are, love you really!

And the next thing; the resolutions!

Losing weight

Drinking less

Being a better person

Give me a break!

Do you heck!? I too had that fleeting feeling, but January sucks you dry so much, you feel fed up and depressed; wishing for Easter, chocolate and hot cross buns is more than likely your next happy thought!

So here I am, still fat, still a lump.

But I enjoyed my Christmas; food and all! That is all that matters to me.

Even though Valentine’s Day is lurking in the shadows like a seductive mess of commercialised bullshit, we still feel obliged to give in to it and pack ourselves into the skimpiest night garments to say ‘I love you’.

February is the month to shop for the first time since the New Year sales. We shop for the next set of sexy lingerie and pretend not to be embarrassed when stepping into Ann Summers!

Its 2020: why are we still embarrassed?

This is a different 20’s, not the 1820’s – we are allowed to show more than the tantalising ankle.

Is it because we also float among a different age who go out of their way to be the social media police; making the rest of us feel scandalous?

Anyway, I always think I have enough time to drop a few pounds before Feb 14th, I’m always wrong.

I still have to suck and tuck into Bridget pants, smile through gritted teeth and roll around on my back; looking as sexy as a stranded turtle.

This year I have asked January to fuck off for a minute and tell February to just hang on!

Being fat means that I have many disadvantages to participating in the ‘sexy’ squad; Love Island, fake Instagram models and the Kardashians see to that! However, being fat also means I still have a few more weeks of winter to keep myself warm, for free!

So who’s winning really?

January is the challenge

February is dancing through the last few weeks of winter, thanking the God’s that January is OVER, giving it a middle finger

March is the month we all say, ‘It’s March already? WTF, it was January yesterday!’

It’s bizarrely amusing how we’re all so different yet act the same.

If you feel like January has hit you like an unexpected steam train for no apparent reason; so hard you can barely breathe…then I feel you!

If January has been kind to you…then go away and talk to me in February.


Wiggles and Giggles x

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