I would go with Rob, my ex, and we always got on better whenwe were away. In the latter years it was about the only time we communicated atall, but as I later discovered, he had other distractions back home.
I didn’t work every New Year. Of those I did not, I couldhonestly say I had only had one decent birthday in the past decade. That waslast year, when my two eager young flatmates actually pushed the boat out andmade the effort for me. Prior to that, virtually every other birthday in mythirties had been a non-event.
Rob, whom I lived with for several years, never seemedbothered about me working during the holiday period. Since he was shagging thegirl next door behind my back for at least half the time we were livingtogether, I guess he saw it as an opportunity for a little extra-curricularactivity. It was actually on my birthday four years ago when he dropped thebombshell he was leaving me for her.
You might be thinking that was rather heartless. Could henot at least have waited until the day after? Actually he couldn’t, as it wason that particular day I caught the pair of them in bed together. Would he everhave told me if I hadn’t stumbled on them as I had? Would I have lived with himanother four years in blissful ignorance?
I only found out then after coming home early from workbecause I was poorly. Yes, I had a terrible cold as well, just one more thingto make the misery of that day complete. It was definitely one of my all-timeworst New Years, and I’ve had some shockers, believe me.
Aside from my own personal issues, there’s one other thing Ireally detest about New Year and that is all the false hope and bravado thatpeople come out with.
“This year’s going to be my year,” they say.
“It’s time for a fresh start,” they proclaim.
Then they carry right on making all the same mistakes theydid the previous year, whilst unrealistically expecting different results. Youwould think they would learn from experience but most never do. So it’s thesame dead-end jobs, same bad boyfriends, same drink, drugs and bad food.
It’s annoying enough when they go on about it to your facebut it’s even worse when it’s plastered all over Facebook. Some seem toregurgitate almost word for word exactly the same rubbish they spouted theprevious year – and the year before that. I don’t know why they don’t just cutand paste it and be done with it.
Some of them boldly declare their resolutions, but what’sthe point? They never keep them. And why tell all and sundry via social media.They are only setting themselves up to look foolish and weak-willed when it allgoes pear-shaped.
There’s one girl that I used to work with who has a longhistory of choosing inappropriate men – basically she is addicted to bad boys.When they crap all over her all we hear is “all men are bastards” and get thebig victim act. A couple of weeks later it all goes quiet as she startsscrewing the next one – who of course is a carbon copy of the previous one. Butnone of this is her fault, of course.
Last New Year she pronounced on Facebook that she wasfinished with men for good. Last I heard she was pregnant by a guy she met inFebruary who has kids by four different women and has since been done for GBH.
Another friend and current colleague claims to be a sizeeighteen but is actually nearer twenty-six. She starts Weight Watchers everyJanuary and wow, do we get to hear about it – constantly. We get daily updatesfor a few weeks of how well she’s doing and then it all goes strangely quiet.This is around the time the lure of the cream cakes becomes too much.
This resolution/fresh start stuff is basically just completebollocks. Forlorn hopes, shallow promises, the whole thing is just so forcedand false. 2nd January is probably my favourite day of the year due to therelief of it being all over.
The first thing I do on that day is get the Christmas treedown and remove all evidence of the festivities from the house. My flatmatessometimes complain that it’s bad luck but I can’t understand people who keep thatstuff up until Twelfth Night. Who honestly still feels Christmassy looking attinsel and lights on 5th January?
Once it’s all gone my home looks refreshingly bare, andnormality can resume. Or at least that used to be the case because, for me,normality no longer exists. It seems that I’m stuck permanently with New Yearfor the rest of my life, which by my calculations is not long. As thingscurrently stand it looks like I’ve got a life expectancy of about two months.
I guess it’s high time I explained what the hell I’m talkingabout. Well, it kind of goes like this…
Chapter Two
2025
When it first happened, I was confused to begin with, almostamnesiac. But now I can recall in great detail everything that occurred on thatday.
After the initial period of disorientation and shock my mindcleared and I’ve now been over the events that occurred hundreds of times. Ithought if I analysed it in that much detail I might eventually pick up someclue that might help me form a plan to get me out of this predicament. So farI’ve drawn a blank.
It was 1st January 2025, just another bog standard NewYear’s Day. There was nothing remarkable about it other than it being mybirthday and you already know how I feel about that. It was a particularlysignificant birthday for me, but before you ask, it wasn’t the big three-0 orfour-0. Everyone makes a big deal about them, but they don’t bother me.
It’s the birthdays that end in a nine that I’ve grown todread. For the record, this particular one was my 39th.
I think turning thirty-nine is worse than turning fortybecause it’s like someone’s put up a great glaring neon sign highlighting thefact that the big one is only a year away. I went through the same thing on my29th. During that birthday, and
