Sitting on the sofa watching endless hours of Netflix, free flowing cups of tea, biscuits and mince pies for breakfast, lunch and dinner sounds like the perfect way to spend those nameless days between Christmas and New Year, except when it’s forced on you because you’re ill. Suddenly the idyll becomes your worst nightmare and you crave walking the dog, clearing the downstairs cupboard – anything to not watch another boxset. Yes, I’ve been ill this Christmas, and I’m going to moan about it! Thankfully I’m not ill often and it’s a good job because I don’t do it well, I feel very sorry for myself and am, quite frankly pretty pathetic. To top it off I’m feeling the Christmas guilts, I feel like we didn’t do anything remotely Christmassy – I whizzed through the Christmas market in a drunken haze after a bottomless brunch at the beginning of December, I didn’t make a wreath (couldn’t be arsed) and I think we’re the only family in a 30-mile radius who didn’t go to lights at Belton House. This was my time to fulfil the family Christmas magic! But no, whatever this bloody virus is put pay to any gorgeous Christmas card picturesque activities.
But hey, there’s always next year when I still won’t do all the ‘stuff’, and actually, I don’t think anyone minds. Right, any Netflix recommendations anyone?!
