The calendar rolls around again
Or, the end of the year
It’s Hogmanay, or nos Calan,* or New Year’s Eve if you’re English.
A homage to loading screens.
Or, the end of the year
It’s Hogmanay, or nos Calan,* or New Year’s Eve if you’re English.
Looking up at the sky again
Happy New Year!
In which we celebrate
Wednesday night was New Year’s Eve; and, for once, we went out. Counting on my fingers, I worked out, it must be about seven or eight years since I last went out to an event on New Year’s Eve, rather than just pop round to a graveyard or a friend’s house. Last year, I remember very clearly where I was at midnight: in bed, ill, groaning and wishing the bloody fireworks and cheering would shut up.
Or, I'm glad I didn't get stabbed
At the office, the main conversation-starter today was: “so, what did you do on New Year’s Eve?” I felt slightly sheepish having to say: “um, I was ill.” It might only have been a cold, but even so the headache and constant sneezing were enough to send me to bed well before midnight.