Last week was bad enough but today will be the worst. This is the day when the largest number of people will ask me what I'm doing for New Year's Eve.
New Year's eve for me is like a sunny day - extreme societal pressure to get out there and do something wonderful when you'd really rather just cruise through it. Sami, however, likes to make a fuss. Over the years, he has come to associate New Year's Eve with dips, and so now that we've passed the club stage and the house party stage and the stay up to watch the ball drop stage (that's just me - he's still stuck in that one), so every New Year's eve he makes dips to celebrate.
It's just the two of us, but there he is, whirring and blending to produce dips. Hummus, baba ganoush and onion soup/sour cream dip. There's no end to the chips, pita bread, raw vegetables and so on that go along with the dips - one year, there were little meatballs, too. For the two of us, one of whom falls asleep about 10pm.
So you ask me what are we doing for New Year's eve? The answer is we're staying home, Sami will make dips, I'll fall asleep and at midnight, he'll wake me up and ask "Aren't you going to have any dips?"
That's what I'm doing.