December, ah December.
If the year was a pizza, December would be the fun filled stuffed crust, just waiting to be dipped into the last bit of garlic sauce and greedily gobbled up; washed down by the heady excitement of the New Year*.
The year has flown by; much has changed, much has not. I examined my face in the mirror this morning (something which normally terrifies me), hunting for the extra wrinkles and the receding hairline that I hoped would prove I was indeed one year older, and by inference (and more importantly) one year wiser.
Unfortunately, there was no clue, no evidence. If anything, the very fact that I was standing in my pants and socks and singing Christmas carols whilst tying to find traces of ‘wisdom’ in my own face belies what I’ve suspected for sometime now – that I am in fact becoming simpler, more idiotic as time passes. This isn’t so bad – if only I could grow younger at the same time.
*I have no idea if this metaphor has any value or not – I bought it online, along with all my other presents, and there is a ‘no returns’ policy
-Photo – Celeste Hibert