I superstitiously, or perhaps just coincidentally have my nails painted blue as some kind of ironic, lazy statement of today's so called blue, depression. For me, I have to say, I seem to have conquered any bad vibes surrounding the usual Monday stigma, but that may be due to my slightly dazed self waking up at 8:35 instead of some horrific 6am start usually associated with Monday mornings. However, some things don't change. There's a certain tact in learning to avoid the abundance of charity workers (and The Hair Man) who loiter on Northumberland Street day-in-day-out in the desperate hope for custom and/or donations. There's always, without fail, someone busking, singing The Fray or Damian Rice or something equally as calming. Masses of people rushing past one another heading to work, uni, school, college, or just shopping. Caffeine fuelled commuters as far as the eye can see. The frantic buying of breakfasts and newspapers.
The ground is crisp, the air is tight, and winter seems to be close on the horizon. A sunny, cold start to the year, and I keep making plans. I'm determined to be organised this year, but how far that goes still remains to be seen.