As another December draws closer, what does it mean to me?

As a child, December only ever meant one thing to me - it was my favourite month, because it was my birthday and Christmas. It was a break from school and presents all in one, and the time of year when I could ask for anything I wanted, no matter how ridiculous. I didn't always get it of course, but that's how life goes.

During my GCSEs and A levels I hated December and Chistmas. It meant revision - or rather, the guilt of not revising for the upcoming tests in January, and having to put more work in than usual.

Now? I have mixed feelings about December. I love it as a month - I will never forget my childhood feelings of joy or elation - who ever could?

However the month will always be tainted by that fact that this is indeed my birthday - it marks another year older, another year further from my childhood, another year further into being an adult. It's also the end of the year - that's something I've never been very appreciative of, either. I hate how the new year comes afterwards, and everyone makes their new year's resolutions that they go on to forget.

But anyway. That's December in a nutshell for me - I love it and hate it, and it will always hold a special place in my heart.