It’s all over bar putting the decorations back in the attic. New Year is just a distant memory, in spite of being only a few days ago, and life as we know it has returned to normal.
But it really shouldn’t be.
It’s Little Christmas this week. Or Women’s Christmas, Nollaig na mBan, by its other name. And yet I, like countless other women, am still expected to go to work.
Yes, it may be our special day (for the love of God, Jennifer, there was none of this “It’s our special day” stuff during the 1980s, my mother might say; well, there is now, Mam) and yet we still have to do the school run, sort the uniforms and hold down a job while the patriarchy tries to convince us that this is our celebration for all the hard work we put in over Christmas.
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Bah-Nollaig na mBan-bug to that.
Seriously women, where did it all go wrong?
I am all for celebrating women, fabulous creatures that we are, but for that to happen we, at the very least, need the day off. Not business as usual with a trendy title attached to it. We need the country to realise just how much women do, not just at Christmas, but all year around. And that will only happen if we don’t go to work, abandon domestic duties and spend the day eating chocolate instead.
Only we wouldn’t do that because we’re needed and we wouldn’t let people down. On account of being fabulous creatures, you see.
Also we might get fired.
So for both those reasons, and to be honest largely also because I’m wrecked after Christmas, instead of mounting some sort of Nollaig na mBan 24-hour, chocolate-fuelled uprising, I’m going to make some Nollaig na mBan resolutions to make the rest of my year a little less chaotic.
- I will give my keys a designated home in my house, so that there is not a panic to find them every time I want to leave said house. See also hairbrush, glasses, phone charger, laptop, handbag and Leap card.
- I will not overthink texts I sent three years ago. I will go full Elsa and let it go. They definitely thought my misspelling was just a typo. It’s grand. And then when it turns out I couldn’t in fact let it go, I will not worry they think I’m some sort of madwoman for randomly clarifying I’m a good speller after all this time. Nor will I follow up to clarify that I am not some sort of madwoman.
- I will buy a diary and planner.
- I will write stuff in the diary and planner.
- I will give the pen I need to write stuff in the diary and planner a designated home in my house so that I can find it when I want to write stuff in the diary and planner.
- I will go to bed at a reasonable time. With the caveat that “reasonable” is in the eye of the stay-up-later. Sleep is not actually for wimps in spite of the great philosopher Del Boy’s claim to the contrary, and so can no longer be considered an acceptable defence of sleep avoidance. Sleep is necessary to survive. Unfortunately. Also I am not Margaret Thatcher. And this is not a bad thing.
- I will be on time. Unless of course it’s the bus’s fault; or my keys, hairbrush glasses, phone charger, laptop, handbag, leap card or pen were not in their designated homes; or I’m late.
- I will eat more fruit and vegetables. I will not argue with myself that chocolate is technically a fruit when faced with the difficult decision of choosing between a mandarin and a mint crisp. A Terry’s Chocolate Orange is not a way around this, allegedly.
- When someone says, “Would you like a coffee, Jen?” I will just say “No thanks, I don’t like coffee” like the mature and responsible grown-up I am. I will not accept and continue to drink coffee in the person’s house for the next number of years, in spite of my strong dislike of it, until I summon up the courage to publicly post my true feelings about the beverage on Twitter, tagging her in the comment. There are easier ways to ask for a cup of tea.
- I will summon a small army of parents and teachers to put an end to the nonsense that is homework. Because life is too short, and also I will be raging if we don’t get this sorted while I still have children in primary school.
