The 12th? Already? Seriously?

I always used to moan about the first two weeks of January because they always seemed to drag on infinitely and make the wait for my birthday seem even worse than the wait for Christmas. This year though the days seem to be rattling by as if it’s mid-Summer. Maybe it’s my age… Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m distracted by the turmoil at work, where Those Above Me are determined to plough ahead with the plans to expand the forecourt and have us open overnight, despite my best efforts to convince them otherwise. I know you can’t halt progress, and it’s futile for one insignificant manager to try, but I’m doing my best to do my bit to counteract the “Bigger! Better! More!” trend of the modern world and keep things exactly as they are. No luck, though. My little protests remain unsuccessful, and my e-mails remain ignored. 
So let’s discuss nicer, happier things. My birthday is on a Friday and I’m not working at all that weekend! Stand by for high jinks a-plenty, and much consumption of vino. I fancy an evening of bowling, followed by an all-night movie session and some nice chilled bottles of wine. Not sure what vintage or variety, but I can guarantee you I won’t be leaping onto the bandwagon that is inhabited by every person of drinking age in the country and buying some Prosecco, because the obsession with that sparkling piss is beyond me. 

RC 12-1-16