Strange this part of the year, isn’t it?
That odd time in between Christmas and New Year where nothing is happening and for some reason your drink and food-addled brain doesn’t even know what day it is.
At the time of writing I am the latest member of FFP Towers to be struck down with a cold.
In the days leading up to Christmas Kirk Wynd resembled a 19th century small pox hospital.
I was surrounded by people sneezing, sniffing and coughing, with a box of tissues on each desk de rigueur.
Hopefully mine won’t come to much - three out of the last four festive periods I’ve been poorly and this year quite frankly I could do with a break.
Going back a few days when I was still bogey-free, it was the FFP Christmas do, where a mock awards ceremony was held and I tearfully accepted the ‘Bombscare Award’ - voted as the person most likely to make a fool of themselves on a night out.
Many years of hard work and self sacrifice have gone in to be deserving of such an esteemed accolade, but in actuality on the evening itself I felt somewhat of a charlatan having taken my car.
But there was good reason for this, the following morning I was having to get up early to go to Edinburgh where I had a date with the Force.
Now I’m not a complete geek when it comes to Star Wars but I was looking forward to it and happily, I thought it lived up to the hype.
This was followed by a trip to St Andrew’s Square for ice skating with my children - the decision to take the car the previous night seemed a canny one at this point.
I didn’t fall over either, which was particularly impressive as Mrs M was raising a mug of warm cider at me from the Dark Side as we passed.