So, there you ‘ave it. Third January, 2011, it’s a Monday, you’re nervous, irritable, tetchy, bordering on the neurotic. Typing this little entry tonight I’m a bit dyslexic, having abandoned myself to the lazy joys of consumer electronics, a godsend in the form of a woollen blanket, a raucous cough and Muciclar. I could have said Vicodin, weren’t it for the fact that not only does Muciclar not sound as exotic, and for the obvious reason that I can’t lie to save myself.
While you are sipping the nasty, dull coffee your employer pays for and reading this, on the monitor your employer paid for, taking advantage of his ADSL package, you will feel a slight twinge of jealousy as you find out I only start work in two days’ time. On Wednesday. Two full late nights and two full late mornings. Sorry pals.
Consumer electronics and raucous coughing will be a distant memory by then. So will my second new year’s eve with the Calleja/Schembri family (they will soon have one surname, and it’s about time she made a man out of you, Jonny) and Christmas Eve at Coach and Horses. So will the priceless enthusiasm on the faces of those opening presents in our living room (4pm) and at my in-laws (6pm – here I somehow helped myself to a present I hadn’t yet been handed – gaffe of the year 2010). And, of course, my cat’s puzzled looks as she stumbles into my room at 10am, wary of the lump in my bed that is not usually there at that hour of day.
Do I look forward to 2011? As much as I look forward to having a molar pulled out. I spent two weeks watching Armando Iannucci’s The Thick of It, a brilliant series whose cinema relative, In the Loop, ran for an Oscar. I heard a lot of swearing and I intend to disseminate some of all that love to the population at large, hopefully including a neighbour or two, come the 5th January. While 2010 goes down in my annals as the year where I lost a relative and lived through many things I could have done without (none of which, unfortunately, was a spell of rabies and two weeks in bed in front of TV), I face the glint of 2011’s steely blade with the usual, undaunted determination: put the kettle on.
I also start my first year as a music reviewer without a home mag after Lily Agius’ departure from Manic! which means, more than probably, that Manic! itself will cease to exist. So, if any ed out there is reading this rant, you got my number. Yeah? Thought so.
There is one thing, though, I look forward to, and it’s not Ivan Grech’s solo album.
Jas, we’re waiting for you.