I woke up yesterday a year older and a year stupider.
I did a quick stock-take:
Belly? Still there.
Painful left knee? That's new.
Concern for the global economy? Seeds of it.
Unsettling preoccupation with the idea of getting a Tesco Clubcard? Definitely new.
Cripplingly large measures of indolence and indecision? Still very much there.
So I skipped college, slept a few more hours and went home and drank tea and watched 'The Virginian' on TG4 with The Bro. What a show.
There were no cards in the post. This was a good thing, as last year there was one: from my chiropractor. I do not want to hear from my jilted chiropractor on my birthday, reminding me that they're still there if I'd care to pay 80 euro a week for temporary relief. 24 Nurofen only costs about 7 quid, lads.