Reasons why new year’s eve is the worst

I always dread seeing friends in the few days after Christmas, because I know that as soon as the post-boxing day lull kicks in there’ll only be one thing on their minds. “Diets?” you say, “Going back to work?” I WISH. I’ll whisper it for you. Imagine me looking around awkwardly to check no-one’s eavesdropping. Now I’m hissing quietly: NEW YEAR’S EVE. Ugh. Let me explain why the NYE-haters among us are staying home this year…

It’s December

Do I need more of a reason than that? IT’S THE END OF DECEMBER, which means it’s absolutely freezing, and dark from around 2pm. Do I want to leave the house if I don’t have to? 100% NO. Look, I have chocolate to eat and the last dregs of festive TV to watch, plus I got some fleecey pyjamas for Christmas which I have more or less lived in since the 25th. I don’t really want to take them off.

It’s RAMMED everywhere

If you’re really set on some kind of event, I personally feel that a new year house party is the way to go – everyone brings their own alcohol and significant other and then goes home when they want to. New year’s eve at a club/bar is a different experience (A BAD ONE). You can’t move, for starters. When you finally make it over to buy your tipple of choice, it takes a good hour to get to the front of the queue and you overcompensate, opting for five drinks at once. You feel quite proud of this until you drop two of them. WHEN CAN WE LEAVE?

You only end up attending a party because you don’t want to be a bore

The second December 28th rolls around, people start saying “The way you spend new year’s eve is a sign of how you’ll spend the whole of that year!” which is not only really fucking stupid but also the reason we end up worrying we’ll die alone while watching Coronation Street in the latter part of 2016. I’m convinced that’s why we then begrudgingly show up to a party, think “That was… alright” the next morning, then burst into tears and realise we’ve now set ourselves up for an average year at best thanks to our mate Jason’s fortune cookie prediction bullshit.

You don’t know the words to Auld Lang Syne

Does anyone under 35, really? A baaa baa-baaa, ba baaaa ba-baaaa, baa baaaa for AULD LANG SYNE. Who is Auld Lang Syne? What is Auld Lang Syne? I don’t know. However I secretly quite enjoy this part of the evening because a) no-one knows what the hell they’re singing, b) someone always gets too enthusiastic with the hand-holding/swinging and ends up falling over, and c) it means midnight is here and I can leave quite soon without looking too anti-social.

None of your clothes fit anymore

Let me refer you back to point #1 – IT’S THE END OF DECEMBER. This means that the last four weeks have been a blur of Christmas meals, Quality Street, turkey, TGI Fridays, Chocolate Orange, edible Christmas tree decorations and fruit cake. The weighing scales have been temporarily hidden lest they snap, your daily breakfast has changed from ‘porridge’ to ‘Toblerone’ and your fridge is full of leftovers which you eat on the hour, every hour. The pretty stuff you wore back in November is out of action until at least February – in the words of Regina George, “These sweatpants are all that fits me right now.”

What are your new year’s peeves? Comment or tweet me!

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