One of my oldest and dearest friends (Paul Christian by name but not by nature) has been in my head recently, more so than usual. One of the reasons why he’s right up there in my consciousness is that since I joined fb I “hear” more about his world than I have for a while. He mentioned recently that his youngest son has Aspergers, which I’d not been aware of before. I was privileged to hear an amazing young man (Dean Beadle) speaking at a conference last week on the subject and his talk was hilarious and highly revealing about the condition and its stigmas – go find him on youtube if you don’t believe me. Paul declared Christmas to be over on fb on Friday night at 9pm-ish. His rationale? The last toffee penny from the Quality Street tin was eaten and that officially put a stop to the proceedings.

It made me think. We still had a small piece of home-made Christmas pud in the cupboard, not to mention some stale biscuits for cheese in the box. The biscuits made their way into the tummies of some assorted sparrows, tits and marsh bobbits earlier today after being crushed up and put on the bird table. The pud has been consumed tonight in a desperate bid to draw a line under the whole thing from me too.

Despite my academic successes of last year, I find myself glad to be rid of it. For 2014 I care about one thing only (other than loving my family and friends) and that is to regain some self-respect by getting a job. Nothing else matters one jot. Until I have my first payslip in my hand I will not be satisfied. I need to work. It’s that simple. Without a job I am listless and unfulfilled. Empty, just like this dish.

I know, I know, it's the time of year, we all feel like this don't we? Well, even if it's not all of us, I do and that's highly likely to be coloured by the fact that I've been working since 11am and am dog tired.