No more days off or days where you think you really should be off. It's like coming off a drug. January. Plans need to be made to avoid the day when the urge to hibernate meets the desire to get to know Mr Christie better. Plans to keep up the housework, to get out and about, to pay off. The sun rises earlier already. As early as it did in early December. The darkest month is past. And no more need to find oneself admitting that "in the early hours of New Year's Day I found myself locked outside in York in my underpants."