Well, here we are, at that dreadfully awkward period between Christmas and the New Year.
It's so very nearly 2012; so very nearly a fresh page, a turned leaf, a restart, a resolution, a new calendar.
It has been four days and the post-Christmas-dinner-guilt has not quite passed; I am still vowing to never again over-indulge, yet as I write this, three boxes of chocolates - uneaten gifts - sit within reach.
Tempting, tempting, tempting.
Perhaps I should simply hide them from myself (my tragically poor memory is at least good for one thing) to remove temptation and thus give 2012's resolution an iota of a chance. Or, perhaps I could behave slightly sensibly and pace my indulgence, one chocolate at a time ...
I assure you, however, that the latter method does not work. Chocolate is so delicious that eating it makes time pass very quickly. Before you have barely sucked out the caramel, licked clean the almond, or picked out the next flavour, your mouth is empty and so is the box.
Other food (probably healthier food) tends to last much longer. This phenomenon extends from what Einstein called relativity: "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute".
Supposedly, this explains why it takes longer to climb a hill than to descend it, and why it takes longer to earn money than to spend it (in my case, anyway).
When people appreciate time, the faster it seems to fly: How quickly (they have been saying recently), how quickly this year has passed! Oh, I am bored of hearing how quickly this year has passed!
It is easy to drag the hours; simply refer back to relativity (and a quote from Catch 22): "Dunbar loved shooting skeet because he hated every minute of it and the time passed so slowly." Yes, amid Heller's mumbo-jumbo wannabe nonsense, his take on time is rather entertaining.
"Do you know how long a year takes when it's going away?" Dunbar repeated to Clevinger.
"This long." He snapped his fingers. "A second ago you were stepping into college with your lungs full of fresh air. Today you're an old man." Thank goodness I am a lady.
Alas, 2011 has not been any regular snap-of-the-fingers year, especially for the people of Christchurch. Many Cantabrians seem keen to swap two for one as soon as possible; a new beginning allows for new hope, especially after Mother Nature's recent, ill-timed shake.
As I placed earthquake-scattered items back on shelves today, I noticed with bittersweet interest the cleanliness of all surfaces. Whenever a quake knocks items on to the floor, I take advantage and give my room a quick tidy before reorganising it.
Thanks to a rocky year, therefore, the dust in our house has had little chance to settle. May 2012 allow dust to settle.
But before you whip away the cleaning products, I will just remind you that we are not there yet.
Until January, and until the resolute behaviour that a new year always requires, let us make the most of the dregs of 2011. The only way to get rid of a temptation, according to Oscar Wilde, is to yield to it. I write this with a mouth full of chocolate.
With skeet shotguns cast aside and temptations fulfilled, hopefully time will race itself towards a Happy New Year.
- Katie Kenny studies English at the University of Otago.
