So, it's a new year, filled with hope and the promise of fulfilling drunkenly promised resolutions. Naturally the disappointment of failing my own obligations won't come around this year as I didn't actually resolve to do anything.
Shocking, right? Not exactly.
While most of you clinked glasses, sloshed some wine and stumbled pant-less down a public stairwell while trying to escape the drunken groping of that crazy guy from the IT department, I was fast asleep, undoubtedly snoring and thanking the mystical ghost of New Year's present that I would not be forced to spend extra time on the treadmill or take up French Cookery. I mean let's face it, resolutions require effort and I'd rather be eating the Creme Caramel and snuggling up on the sofa watching inappropriate reality television than adding to my already hectic schedule.
Why the negativity you say? Simple. I have merely come to accept that my thighs may one day have their own zip code, my hair will never co-operate while I live in the tropics and I simply cannot be nicer to children or old men wearing cowboy hats and driving twenty miles under the speed limit.
But to those of you brave enough to attempt world peace and reducing carbon emissions one fart at a time, I say good for you and good luck!
Happy New Year!