It’s Australia Day, huzzaahhh!!! Australians like nothing better than a paid-day off work, especially if it’s summer, occurs during the Australian Open Tennis on Melbourne’s doorstep and falls favourably to make a long weekend. Since I work a nine-day fortnight anyway, this makes it an extra-long weekend. Double huzzaahhh!!!
Yesterday I spent a glorious sunshine-filled day pottering around wineries with my girlfriend and friends, eating my bodyweight in cheese platters. During the week the mercury skyrocketed to 41C/105F degrees, causing friends in wintery London to jealously wish me a slow and painful death without realising no one leaves the house in that temperature. Then again, they probably don’t either after imbibing 67 units of alcohol a week during the festive season, which launches Dry-January efforts nationwide viewed in the same light as rescuing orphans from minefields. That doesn’t seem fair - what if the orphans were carrying kittens as well? Or had leprosy? Leprosytic kittens! One argument goes that it's so depressing during the winter months, what options are there but to assuage your aching soul than through alcohol? Sweet Jesus! What next, crying because it’s drizzling? Bouts of farting because it’s a bit windy? Alcoholics anonymous are around if you need it.
In the last year I try to dedicate my weekends to relaxing and being more present with the people I love, and mentally it’s been a lifesaver. I never make new year’s resolutions, but instead make plans and review regularly. Making one plan for the entire year seems to lack ambition. So, here’s a 2019 update on my to-do lists I published three months ago:
Well done Osaka! Come on, Nadal!
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