The pressure of 1 January


I think my calendar is wrong.

It says today is 1 January 2017, but nothing monumental has happened to me, so I think there may be a mistake.

You see, I’m just as irritable and anxious as on 31 December 2016.

I’m still eating chocolate like there’s no tomorrow, despite being on Weight Watchers (well to be fair, people are tying me down and stuffing Lindt balls down my throat!).

I am still terrible with my money and feeling ill that I work so hard and can never seem to be able to afford anything.

The finance fairy has also forgotten to stop by and pay off my credit card debt.

My bottom is still big and wobbly. My fadoobadahs (upper arms) are also still wobbly and I can’t see any definition anywhere on my body.

I still have some wrinkles and grey hair.

My children are still a little bit annoying.

I’m still nagging.

And my hormones are acting like a bunch of bees in a jar after you shake them up.

So, what’s the deal, eh? It’s the New Year, peoples! Where is the sudden turnaround?

This “New Year, New You”hoohah is a lot of hogwash!

Bring on 2018.

 

 

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