28December2025 Diary
Im fortyfive now and I no longer entertain anyone in my flat.
It seems some people forget that stepping onto my doorstep makes them a guest. They behave badly, start giving orders and never hurry home.
I used to pride myself on being a warm host, but that attitude shifted quickly once I passed forty. I stopped inviting anyone over. Why bother? Its a nuisance to have those types of visitors.
My last birthday I celebrated at The Ivy on OldStreet, and I loved it Ill keep doing that. Let me explain why.
Throwing a party at home is costly. Even a modest dinner requires a decent sum, and a Christmas gathering can cost even more. Guests come with modest presents because times are tight, then linger long into the night. Id rather relax than spend the evening scrubbing dishes and tidying up.
Now I sit in my flat waiting for no one. I clean and cook only when the mood strikes. In the past, after Christmas parties Id feel exhausted and downcast. These days, after the holidays, I can take a long bath and head to bed early.
I have plenty of free time and I use it wisely. Friends may pop in for a cuppa, and Im not worried about running out of biscuits. I can speak my mind without holding back. When I need a break I simply point to the door. It may not look picturesque, but I dont fret over it. My own wellbeing comes first.
What amazes me is that people who love to wander into other peoples homes never seem to invite anyone into theirs. For them its easier to play the host without the hassle of cleaning and cooking.
Do I welcome guests? Can I still call myself a hospitable person?
End of entry.
