Oh no, it's that dreadful time of year when all through the house people begin their annual murmurings of New Year's resolutions - usually while swilling a wine and wishing they were skinnier, richer, owned their own home or had a sober driver.
For those who partake in such antics, there are only a few days left to pull the list together and I'm going to write mine before the effects of eggnog have taken hold.
Gone will be lofty aspirations to read more books, study Greek literature (seriously I did have that on my list last year) or learn to sing.
This year I'm going with the entirely more achievable goal of being more beautiful and much more high-maintenance. I'm going to try a whole regime of techniques, skills and procedures - and all by the end of January.
That way I'll have eleven listless free months to smile smugly at everyone else.
Of course I plan to eat like a sparrow, quit the wine and do pilates every day over summer, but as I already know I'm going to fail at those I won't even write them down. What I am going to do is book some things in, treat myself to some self-improvement and call it fulfilling my resolutions.
I want pretty eyelashes without smudgy mascara. I resolve to rid myself of age spots with a little IPL.
Then with my lashes luscious and my skin looking as though it's been air-brushed, I promise to improve my make-up application skills to be sure I never leave the house without pouty lips and smoky eyes.
And I suppose, if I must, my final achievement will be some sort of exercise regime. Hmm, maybe online pilates or virtual tennis without having to leave my living room - so as to be followed immediately by a chardonnay. If I can't resolve to be a better person at least I'll look like one.
Watch this space. Happy New Year!
<i>Megan Singleton</i>: Making a list, checking it twice
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