January. Christ, I hate it. Returning to work after two weeks annual leave. Hundreds of emails staring back at me with over-bearing red flags by their side. Countless meeting requests and conference calls to respond to. If I had hair on my head, I'd pull it out. I've got hair everywhere else but I have no intention of plucking it, regardless for my initial disdain towards the beginnings of a new year.

Resolutions is another bane. I always half-heartedly promise myself that I will detox. Then I remember why I suggested this the very first time many years ago. I was taking the p*ss out of the people that we're taking it seriously. At some point parody merged with reality and I allowed to be consumed by it all. Thankfully, I also tend to consume plenty of drink and food making any proposed detox redundant as early as the first of January.