On Winter

At work yesterday we had a discussion on which type of soup we would be, if we had to turn into a type of soup. I know it's an odd thing to discuss, but it was very close to hometime on Friday afternoon, and at least three of us were still struggling to shrug off a killer hangover from post-work drinks the night before. Anyway, it was decided I would be winter vegetable. (I've never had that soup before, but I checked and Heinz do sell it so it must be a soup of repute).

The principal reason given for my becoming a bowl of winter vegetable soup, was my love of winter and all it stands for and entails - something that I'm apparently 'always going on about'. So seeing as I won't be able to declare my love for this season to my colleagues anymore, and N zones out whenever I discuss it, I'm going to blog about it. Just once (come to think of it I have mentioned it before. But this will be the last time now, promise).

Now is quite a good time too, for winter is slipping swiftly through my fingers. It's already getting dark later. The snow's gone (which is a good thing) and I don't think there's a bank holiday now until Easter, so solid work for the next four (?) months. Grim. So, why is winter my favourite season?

- If you're outside and look in through the windows, everything looks warm and cosy

- If you're inside and look out through the windows, you appreciate the warmth and cosiness.

- My birthday's in December, as is Christmas. This equates to a huge amount of time off work.

- In summer, it's unlikely that there will ever be weather extreme enough to disrupt transport links and require a day off work.

- I love scarves and fingerless gloves.

- I love eating something hot and feeling it warm you up.

- I love buying presents for other people.

- I watch more films, TV and read more because it takes and extra effort to go the pub so actually understand what people at work are talking about.

- I love rain (although this could apply to summer in the UK, too).

But despite my love for winter, this month is dragging me down. My world has been hit by its own personal recession, and the fact that everything that I like to do costs money is being mercilessly rubbed in my face. It has also exposed a complete lack of willpower on my part. On Friday I met N after work in Shoreditch, and we found ourselves wandering in the direction of Brick Lane*. We reached Brick Lane. We walked into a curry house. We ate. Lots. Now, neither of us can afford it but I could not say no. I couldn't muster any energy to resist the temptation. This meant that an intense guilt washed over me the moment I put my knife and fork down. The same thing happened on Thursday evening, when I went out with the Fellowship of the Moan (we're back) for post-work drinks and rolled home at midnight really rather worse for wear. Now though, I have nothing left. It has to stop. But there's like two weeks left until pay day which is completely unfair (they paid us early for Christmas - thanks a bunch, Personnel).

On the upside my social calendar for February is now chock full of interesting things I have to do that can't this month, so roll on Feb 2010. Bring me your fun.

*Aside to London Girl - it would seem you were in Brick Lane on Friday too, I promise I wasn't the drunk man following you!