If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been over the festive period, please be assured I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth. I have, however, spent a solid 24 hours in A&E, which feels like falling off the calendar entirely.
Christmas Eve was less mince pies and more hospital wristbands, as I accompanied my 20-year-old daughter on an unexpected adventure involving an infection and a heart rate that absolutely refused to cooperate with anything described as “normal measurements.” While I remained calm on the outside (obviously), internally I was Googling things I definitely shouldn’t and wondering whether festive pyjamas were appropriate hospital attire. Thankfully, antibiotics worked their magic, equilibrium was restored, and we were eventually released back into the wild.
After that, Christmas Day arrived slightly dishevelled, clutching a roast dinner and asking, “Are we meant to be enjoying this?” In theory, I was cooking a normal roast. In practice, because it involved turkey, I managed to overcomplicate it to the point where NASA could have been consulted. Timings, basting schedules, resting periods—why does turkey turn sensible people into contestants on MasterChef: Panic Edition? Still, everyone was fed, no smoke alarms were harmed, and I’m calling that a win.
The days that followed blurred into that strange festive limbo where time has no meaning. Is it Monday? Is it Saturday? Are the shops open? Do the bins go out today or tomorrow? Should I be productive or eating leftovers directly from the fridge? Nobody knows. Calendars become decorative. Emails feel aggressive. You find yourself saying things like “after New Year” without any idea when that actually is.
As a mature student, this period is especially confusing. I oscillated between thinking I should be studying, napping, cleaning, or simply staring into space wondering how it’s suddenly dark again. Any absence from blogs, messages, or general online presence can be attributed to this combination of hospital visits, turkey-based decision making, and total temporal disorientation.
The good news is: normality is in sight. I am genuinely looking forward to returning to work on the 5th of January, purely for the comfort of routine, structure, and knowing what day it is without checking my phone. Whether my students will allow that normality is another matter entirely—but hope springs eternal.
Until then, thank you for your patience. I’m back, mostly upright, and ready to rejoin the world—armed with antibiotics, leftover roast potatoes, and a renewed appreciation for boring, ordinary days.