1. Time off Work
Having had every Christmas holiday for the past four years being, more or less a repetition of term time (without the exhausting, mandatory schedule of six lectures a week) punctuated by an unwelcome plethora of exams, essays and fear of failure I am overjoyed to be able to properly celebrate Christmas. My T.V watching of Doctor Who, Call the Midwife and the great and the joyous My Big Fat Quiz of the Year without worrying about the linguistic features of early modern French or the Historiographical background to the Crusades is, quite frankly, an extremely exciting prospect. Moreover, I have, essentially, two weeks off work. Two fat, full weeks of delightful, brilliant nothingness.
2. Screw the Diet
Let’s be honest, if you’re feeling, say, a little bit round, on December 22nd, with all the Slimming World SYNS and the Weight Watchers points in the world, the festive period between the 25th December and the 1st January is not, realistically, the time to start a diet. There is no way that weight is going to shift given the constant rotation of parties, dinners, soirees and general festive offerings. In fact, yesterday (Xmas eve,) when I went to the beauticians there were cookies, mince pies and muffins. I’m not entirely sure why anyone needs such an abundance of seasonal food on having their nails done, but there they were. Furthermore, you have societal norms on your side because every woman over the age of 18 in the Western world (apart from those naturally thin people of whom we do not speak) starts dieting come January 1st. So embrace the abundance of food, thank the good lord for shift dresses and screw the diet.
3. Home Comforts
You know that scene in the movie where the female protagonist goes home, looks at her old room and feels she is too big for its confines. She then proceeds to have an affair with an old flame/someone too young/someone inappropriately old and then leaves having “found herself.” This is, in no way, how I feel. I am extremely, inordinately happy to be home. In a warm house (because I live with students and heating is expensive), where I do not wake up at 5 am every morning to the dulcet sounds of North West London traffic (I sleep next to the window, which essentially means there are nights I could sleep on the bus stop and notice little difference in terms of noise pollution) and without having to flap like a confused chicken trying to find parking within a 1 mile radius of where I need to be. I never thought I’d appreciate being able to park in a drive, outside my own house, but it was clearly a gift I took for granted the first twenty years of my life.
So Happy Chanukah, Merry Xmas, Happy Holidays and a very very Happy New Year! And if anyone wants me I’ll be in the gym January 1st.