Surviving January 17

Today, in the unpleasant darkness of early morning, I switched on the TV to learn that Monday January 17 has been deemed the most depressing day of the year. It’s true that Mondays are generally not well liked. It’s also true that the holiday glow has officially worn off by now, and that many of us are feeling depressed about our all too early abandonment of New Year’s resolutions.

I am embarrassed to say that my own vague commitment to a healthier lifestyle appears to have ended before it began. This morning, for instance, in a fit of low blood sugar, I ate a Laura Secord chocolate present. And this was not a unique occurrence. A whole box of mini gifts has been slowly depleting on my desk at work for the last month or so. I usually need one around 10 a.m. if I want to remain at all functional for the second half of the morning. Sure, they’re only 50 calories per present, but that one little chocolate never fails to put a damper on all my good intentions to eat healthy, clean food for the rest of the day. By the time evening rolls around and Steve and I are settling in to watch Top Chef or half a dozen episodes of The Big Bang Theory on DVD, I find myself easily able to justify pouring that tall glass or red wine because, well, healthy eating already went out the window that day thanks to the morning chocolate.

The funny thing is that I am normally a certified health nut. My love affair with organic fruit and veg is steadfast and strong, and nothing makes me feel quite so good as a long stretch of genuine, uninterrupted healthy eating. The problem is that in the wintertime, feeling good in the moment is just too much to resist. I crave the soft, comforting sweetness of chocolate melting on my tongue, and the smooth, relaxing buzz of a glass of wine. Such bodily pleasures strive admirably, if ultimately in vain, to make up for the harsh reality of winter that glares back at me on the other side of the window.

I plan on ending this most depressing day of the year in the most unimaginative way possible: curling up on the couch and watching Top Chef, then reading, then going to bed early. Maybe I’ll dream of summer. Perhaps that’s not so depressing after all.