You can wake up to the sound of rain on the roof - or you can wake up to the wailings of the now ag-ed Eddie-cat and discover that the windows were inadvertently left open to the moister-than-usual elements and invited them inside.
I did not choose the latter. It chose me.
You can make decisions about what is on the tele, as there are the proverbial 57 channels (and yet still not achieve that perfect program).
You can create a feast of the mundane. You can get wet when out shopping. You can be trounced by an eleven-year-old in new board games.
You can balance the books. You can make resolutions.
You can observe in the rearview the most bizarre period in your life and realise that while this is a year that we will (hopefully) look back upon.
You can find a television station that is selling the most tinny Christmas trivial knick-knack so badly that you think it a form of theatre.
You can enjoy the sunshine and measure the rain and feel the plumpness of limes and revel in the vibrancy of the chillies ripening.
You can imagine being with friends and family far and wide and hope that there is peace in their worlds right now.
You can remember reading of other times of trouble in other parts of history and the parallels and lessons unlearned and wonder how the hell we got through and how the hell are we going to get through this.
You can realise that one of the many diseases uncovered this dig is the dis-ease in our society where the I is so much higher than the we to the detriment of us.
You can hope and hope and hope that it will indeed be better.
You can eat chocolate and contemplate that tomorrow will be a new day.
And even better, a holiday. And another day where you can enjoy what life has to offer and be thankful.
Best wishes to all.