There are many ways to describe this weird period of nothingness between Christmas and New Year; ‘Chrimbo Limbo’ being our favourite. You could also call it ‘The Festive Perineum’, as one man’s mother so delightfully dubbed it:
1. You’re in a demobilising food coma brought on, quite unsurprisingly, by copious amounts of turkey, potatoes and Christmas pudding.
And who’s to blame you? It only happens once a year.
2. You quickly forget about the food coma…
…in a similar vein to the way they say you forget about the excruciating pains of childbirth (which, by the way, having been there and done that: you never really forget). So, you scoff your face with all the leftovers. Like, alllll the leftovers.
3. You start getting inventive with anything and everything you can get your hands on.
We’re talking turkey and stuffing sandwiches, turkey curry, bubble and squeak, brussel and parsnip soup… hell, you’ll try anything. And when you run out of ideas, you’ll undoubtedly consult Jamie or Nigella.
4. So, again, you eat far too much and are reduced to yet another food coma.
Will you ever learn?
5. You think about taking a nice stroll and walking it off…
6. …but, frankly, it’s far more likely that you’ll sit in front of the TV and watch Chicken Run or the Big Fat Quiz of the Year instead.
Christmas TV is flippin’ great, isn’t it?
7. You’re not really sure what day it is.
Mentally, you’re already in the New Year. But then again, nothing you do in the ‘Festive Perineum’ counts for anything anyway, so you don’t suppose it matters.
8. You have the sudden realisation that New Year’s Eve is creeping up on you pretty fast.
You need prosecco and party poppers ASAP…
9. Your plans for the evening change for the hundredth time, and you consider just jumping into bed at 10pm instead.
10. You start preparing your New Year’s resolutions and thinking intently about what lies ahead.
On a general scale, you’re just hoping that we don’t get another s**tshow of a year after the past few (let’s not go there). But on a more personal level you’re, rather optimistically, hoping to reach major goals and eternal happiness (and world peace, etc, etc).
11. You look back at the year reminiscently, feeling somewhat emotional about it ending but also excited to get rid.
You pop prosecco with elation and inebriation, and with absolutely no idea what the next 365 days have in store. (Although one thing you can be sure of is the horrific hangover that looms.)