The end of the festive period is rarely a welcome time. For most of us, it means saying goodbye to endless feasting, spending valued quality time with loved ones and returning to work – not to mention facing the dreaded month of January head on and possibly even booze-free.
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I woke on Tuesday at 4am and could hardly breathe. I was sweating (and, post-menopausal that I am, I never sweat) and racked with worry. I grabbed my hair, put my head in my hands, and said out loud, ‘What am I doing? What was I thinking?’