I HOPE THE REST OF THIS IS BUTTERFLIES

There is one week left of January and already it feels like the year has been both a lifetime and a blink. It somehow feels like there have already been 287 days in 2025 and at the same time, like I haven’t yet washed off the glitter from New Year’s Eve.

January’s a contradictory little thing isn’t it, a time of new beginnings weighed down by its own expectations. The wide-eyed optimism from the single-digit days is waining; I made a resolution to stop ordering so much Deliveroo and I have already (on more than one occasion) eaten my own body weight in spring rolls. Safe to say things are going well. The mornings are reluctant to arrive and the evenings pull on their dark coats too early.

But even here, in the endless grey, in the days that feel like a dare to keep going, I refuse to not believe (is that right? I refuse to not believe. That’s a double negative, right? So I’m saying I believe. That’s what that is. I strongly believe, is what I want to say, I strongly believe) there is also goodness.
The spring rolls for example (look at me, immediately trying to justify it, but HEAR ME OUT WILL YOU) have become a not-so-guilty pleasure. A small comfort in a month that often feels like a test of endurance. But what really makes my heart skip a beat is when they’ve chucked in an extra portion of sweet and sour dipping sauce for free, because I think the best surprises aren’t grand gestures. I think they are quiet, unassuming moments of joy that catch us off guard. Okay, that’s quite dramatic for some sweet and sour sauce, but let me…y’know.