New Year’s Eve was pretty horrendous this year.
It was going to be low key, with just Jess and her friend staying over as we knew we wouldn’t be going out. Just chilling, watching Netflix with Si while the girls played Minecraft. That was the idea.
I posted this humour on Twitter and Facebook:
Recreate the thrill of a New Year’s Eve party without having to invite any actual people into your home. You will just need a Fire Stick or Echo. “Alexa, tell Burglar Deterrent to protect the living room with party sounds” /1
Your TV will play background music, glasses clicking, mumbled chatter. You could go to bed and leave it running. Bonus: Your neighbours may hate you for having a house party and not inviting them. You’re welcome. Happy New Year! /2
Goodbye 2019 – you have been an annus horribilis and I’m glad to see the back of you /End
Still in good spirits, with a little melancholy creeping in, then Facebook Memories tipped me over the edge, with photos and video of our New Year’s Eve five years ago. We had all four kids that New Year’s Eve, and threw a little house party just the six of us. We had chocolate fondue and karaoke. everybody was happy. The video on Facebook Memories was Iggy in his Darth Vadar onesie singing Thriller while James pretended to be a zombie coming at him. I miss them both.
Si had not been able to get through to James again, though he tried using various lines of communication. Frustrated, he turned his attention to learning a couple of 80s songs on his guitar in the music room. This left me sitting around on my own, spending too much time on Twitter, my malaise festering and bubbling up into a meltdown. We got through NYE, but had a lot of trouble getting to sleep.
Not an auspicious start to 2020. The idea of colleagues and running club friends asking how my Christmas and New Year went fills me with dread.