IVORY TOWERS

I tell you what: there's nothing quite like painting a room to get you thinking about random stuff; mostly, it has to be said, anything other than painting a room. I trailed a brush along the bit where the wall meets the ceiling, watching the paint squeeze out of the bristles and squelch along the wall. It is so boring; it's like watching... something or other.

I was trying to think up as many three-letter animals as I could. I got into a debate with myself about whether I could include nomenclature other than that of species, and why I allowed myself 'hen' but rejected 'jay' and 'cod' without thinking. Where's Linnaeus when you need him? I got nine in the end, well, eight if you don't count that dubious hen.

Paint's funny stuff isn't it? I feel like I've already seen too much of it, poured enough of it into the roller tray and walked my socks through more than enough of it. I reckon I'm just over half-way there.

Happy New Year by the way. I know I normally do a thing about how we all watched the fireworks and lit sparklers and wearily stacked the dishwasher, but decorating this week has really taken it out of me. We did do all that. As Big Ben chimed and the London sky was bright with celebration, I stood in front of the television wondering how 2016 might turn out. For lots of reasons, 2015 was a mixed-bag and I can't be alone in thinking the world, us, friends, me, you perhaps, we all deserve a bit better.

The thing is, it is actually up to us what we do with the year. I can't take on evil single-handedly but I can make my world a better place for people around me. I can't predict who will make terrible decisions and I can't get out of the way before they happen, but I'm sure there are microdecisions I can make that might prevent a few awful macro ones later down the line. I think it's up to us what we do with our little slice of 2016. And weirdly that makes me more hopeful.

It's a year of new arrangements for me too. Soon I will move properly into Ivory Towers and begin a different kind of life on my own. I'm nervous about it, but also secretly excited. I'm actually looking forward to putting my feet up, sipping a cup of Darjeeling and admiring the walls I painted.

'Soon,' I told myself, climbing down the step-ladder to reload the brush. I felt my sock land in a patch of something sticky, and I rolled my eyes. 

I'm definitely going to need new socks this year anyway.