Alarm

Having been away from work for a full two weeks over the Christmas holiday, I have to go back tomorrow. This is always a difficult time of the year: finally bidding farewell to the festivities, and getting back to the empty drudgery of normal life. Perhaps normal life is not quite so bleak, but it definitely lacks a bit of colour once the tinsel is packed away and the brandy butter eaten up, or (sadly) thrown out once it is deemed to pose a hazard to health. As if to underline the point, this weekend has seen the end of the turkey and the Christmas pudding. The sadness of saying goodbye to these stalwart companions of the last few weeks is offset to some degree by memories of happier times, and the knowledge that various seasonal treats are still lurking in the cupboard, or in the fridge, and will be some consolation in the months to come.

So somehow I have to get myself out of bed at a ridiculously early hour tomorrow morning, having got into the habit, over the holiday period, of slumbering a few minutes longer than I should. I have an alarm, which I suppose is of some help, though seeing I never bothered re-setting it these last two weeks, I am now pretty adept at ignoring it. It is harder to ignore the cat, who tends to want feeding between 4a.m. and – well, any time, really. She tends not to be very regular. Not something you can set your clock by. Hence the need for clocks.