Another new year and a flat full of half drunk bottles of wine, tubs of twiglets, trodden who knows what into the floorboards and discarded mincepies.

As an improvement on last year's party, I have no abandoned mystery fleece adorning my spare room but have taken the radical step of washing last year's fleece to aid its journey to a charity shop.

And now there is nothing festive left to do but to eat up the leftovers and take down the tree. I'm loving that my gym is shut for three precious days - a perfect excuse for unadulterated laziness.