1442: Yearly Wasteland

We’ve reached that peculiarly barren time of year — it’s no longer Christmas, but it’s not quite New Year either. Some unlucky people have to go back to work for a few days — Andie is one of them — while the rest of us bum around, twiddling our thumbs and wishing we had more presents to open. (Actually, we will have a few more presents to open on New Year’s Day, which is nice. I think I know what mine will be, and if I’m right I’ll be very pleased with it.)

I feel a bit frustrated by the holiday season at the moment. I miss the “magic” it used to have when I was a kid. I’m not sure quite when it stopped being exciting and fun, but it’d be nice to get that back.

I’ve mentioned before my curious inability to express genuine-seeming outward signs of excitement, surprise or anything like that, and I have a feeling that may be something to do with it. I love opening presents and getting cool stuff, but I hate the pressure there is to look pleased with what you got. Everyone who buys you something is almost inevitably looking carefully at your face to see if you smile, grin, laugh or look disappointed at the things that have been purchased for you, and given that I feel enormously self-conscious about getting excited or joyful, my reaction often appears to be somewhat more “meh” than it actually is. I generally do like presents, whatever they are — because I’m not an ungrateful twat who returns gifts that other people have bought for him — and I am always appreciative when someone thinks of me and buys me something nice. It’s just sometimes a bit difficult to show.

Same with New Year’s. Everyone builds it up to be some kind of massive big deal, so when the time comes to actually say “Happy new year!” to people I feel very self-conscious and stupid. It feels like a cliche to say it. Well, it is a cliche to say it, but surely there’s no better time to actually say “happy new year!” to someone than at one minute past twelve on New Year’s Day. Garrgh.

One day I might get over all these stupid neuroses. Sadly, that day is not today, so if you are, by any chance, hanging out with me for New Year celebrations at any point in the future, I apologise in advance for my seeming lack of enthusiasm about the year increasing by one.

We’re off out to a party at my friend Tim’s tomorrow night to ring in the new year. There will be sausages. And no, that’s not a euphemism; the plan is actually for there to be lots of sausages. This is a situation I am absolutely fine with.

There will be one last post of 2013 before the new year — that will hopefully be before midnight, if I remember — and then it’s onward to 2014 and great things. Or just the same things as usual, but with a different number in the “YYYY” section of forms.

Anyway. Happy holidays or whatever.