This is that period we go through every year. Christmas is over, though the decorations are still up, and some presents hardly looked at. Sweet treats yet to be eaten, and some luxury snacks remain in the fridge, approaching their ‘best before’ dates.
From the 27th until the 31st we have that in-between time. Some people had to go back to work, others are off until the 2nd of January. Life goes back to normal for five days, even though the local children are still on holiday from school. Everyone is inexplicably tired. All that stress and preparation leading up to the 25th has taken its toll. No enthusiasm for trips out, even though we have been spared any rain. No desire to do much more than flop about listlessly, and only doing the bare minimum to keep the place tidy, and ourselves respectable.
With the festive season officially behind us, the anticipation is now focused on New Year’s Eve, and 2019. Not that we have any plans of course. Julie has to work from 8 until 6 on that day, so is unlikely to be feeling very celebratory by the time she gets home at 7 pm. We might manage to stay awake for the annual countdown, but it’s not guaranteed. In this house, it is far more likely that it will just be Monday.
And what of the year to come? I still can’t get over the fact that everything after 2001 has had a science-fiction feel to it. To me, born in the early 1950s, any year with a 2 in front of it is associated with people in silver suits, eating nutritional pellets as they travel in driverless flying cars. Even though none of that happened, I still feel as if I am living in a future imagined by others long dead, if only because of the number signifying the year.
As others make resolutions, and pundits make predictions, all I can think of is that it will be much the same as any year. Bins will need to be emptied, a dog will need to be walked, and at some stage, it will undoubtedly rain too hard, for too long. The gloom merchants will continue to predict the imminent end of life as we know it, Brexit will continue to be a complete mess, and people will still die in foreign wars. Only the number of the year changes, little else.
That’s the trouble with these five days ‘In between’. Too much time to think.