The weekend , but the weekend after New Year

Saturday 3rd January

We are stuck — that strange in-between feeling where the year has technically started, but life hasn’t quite pressed play yet.

Today feels like preparation day. Not the dramatic, fresh-start kind, but the quieter sorting-yourself-out version. Getting ready to return to work, mentally lining things up, pretending you’re more organised than you actually feel. There’s that nagging sense that because it’s Saturday you should be out doing something — brunch, wandering, being spontaneous — but instead you’re already trying to be good. Sensible. Future-you focused.

The alarm went off early because apparently I’ve decided to be that person . Gym class at 8:30am, in the snow. Snow. At the time it felt great — smug, even — like I was winning at life while everyone else was still in bed. Fast forward a few hours and the tiredness has properly landed, but I’m still pleased. Daily steps hit: 10k. Box ticked. No one can take that away from me.

The afternoon has been all about easing into routine. Visiting a best friend and putting the world to rights for a couple of hours, good for the soul! Cooking off all the leftover veg, turning odds and ends into next week’s soup for work lunches. Batch cooking feels deeply unglamorous, but also oddly comforting— like I’m quietly looking after myself without making a big deal about it. There’s something satisfying about knowing future lunches are handled. Luckily I really love to cook so used this as an escape mechanism this afternoon from tough thoughts within my mind(which I will save for another day!)

Now? Now I can’t wait to sit down. The Traitors is calling, and so is the sofa. I do not sit on my sofa a lot, despite the wonderful deal from Sofa Sofa, I don’t give it the comfort of my relaxation that it deserves. There’s a pause here — a moment to breathe, to let the day settle — and to contemplate what’s next. Not in a big, overwhelming way. Just gently. One episode at a time.