It’s usually round about this time of year that I start saying fond farewells to friends and acquaintances. I bid adieu to the alternative Cape Town social scene and retreat into a merlot induced coma in the comfort and warmth of my apartment, only venturing outdoors to fill in my timesheets at the palace of advertising.
It’s during these times of extreme comfort and self-indulgence that I would imagine myself as a fabulous recluse, tucked away in my loft apartment in the city. This was of course until a close friend commented on how lame and pathetic I was actually being.
So this year, I plan a different kind of winter. I intend on braving the cold and misbehaving as if it was the sweltering middle of February.
To loosely quote Dylan Thomas: “I plan to go rocking into that good night.”