We spend the weeks leading up to Christmas hunched at the grindstone, living out our very own version of Groundhog Day – one in which our list of Christmas chores gets longer and the days, startlingly, get shorter. By December 24 we usually resemble some kind of cross between the Duracell Bunny and The Grinch.

But what comes next? Is it a magnanimous sigh of relief? A kick up your feet, pass-the-Baileys kind of glee? Or does the – whisper it – guilt kick in the moment you’ve scraped the leftovers? 

Just as idle hands find the devil’s work, idle brains have a tendency to overthink. To experience guilt. The kind of guilt that nags – nay, eats – away at you for finally stopping, for taking a moment. For sitting still. For being ‘lazy’. 

In the book Laziness Is A Lie, author Devon Price explains how culture has led us to this place. “The laziness lie is a belief system that says hard work is morally superior to relaxation and that people who aren’t productive have less innate value than productive people. It’s an unspoken yet commonly held set of beliefs and values. It affects how we work, how we set limits in our relationships, and our views on what life is supposed to be about.”

Some may see themselves clearly in the last few sentences, others may have no problems dialling it down to zero the moment they get their Christmas holidays. Guilt? Never knew her. Which side of the fence do you lie on? We asked around …

Main image: Instagram @kdksisters.

A severe case of the guilts:

Tara, 48

“I hurtle towards Christmas, holding my breath, getting everything done – work, home, parents, kids, house. An ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ sort of attitude. The moment I stop is the moment I start to feel guilty about stopping.”

An annoyingly active husband:

Jill, 41

“My husband is a triathlete (amateur!) and spends at least two hours a day training. He takes Christmas Day off but is back on his bike, literally, early on St Stephen’s Day when I am turning over for another snooze. With a job and three small children, the most I can manage is a couple of walks a week, and all year long I fantasise about my Christmas break and how I might actually on a couple of occasions sleep until I am no longer tired. I actually really resent that he has more time than me and chooses to spend it training and I also resent that his waist is considerably smaller than mine. But does it make me want to join him at 7am on St Stephen’s Day? No! I’d rather read in bed! “

The hard-learned lesson:

Martine, 52

“I honestly gave up feeling guilty the day I turned 50. My therapist had encouraged me for years to work on my guilt – the result, she suggested, of never being able to please my mother as a child. I’m not sure if that’s the reason, but for years I suffered terrible guilt about being idle, or even a little self-indulgent. I was mostly pretty worn out as a result and also didn’t enjoy things. What a waste of energy and countless lovely moments ruined by that nagging feeling that I was a waster when I was anything but! I just couldn’t waste any more time. I have really tried not to guilt-trip my kids the way she did. Now I am comfortable doing less so that I can feel more rested and enjoy things more.”

‘What are you talking about?’:

Alma, 30

“Seriously? Guilt about taking it easy over Christmas? Is that actually a thing?”

‘Is it an Irish thing?’ asks a French friend:

“Guilt ah, non. Why would you feel guilty about anything? Unless you killed someone, perhaps. Life is short.”

A young woman with a whole other kind of guilt:

Amy, 21

“I like how everything goes quiet for maybe 48 hours, when people are at home with their families. Bit of an Insta blackout. Then the hashtag SunriseSwims start again on the 27th, or hiking up a mountain, or skiing. It feels kinda lame just poking around the fridge for leftovers in my mum’s house and sleeping under my Disney duvet until I go back to college.”

The ‘justifier’:

Moira, 39

“My guilt is often tied to how much I get done in the day. If I head out for a walk to burn off some of my Christmas calories, and feel less ‘lazy’ then I won’t feel as bad about vegetating for the rest of the day with some Lindt chocolates and a good movie. It’s like I bargain with myself a bit. Why do I do it? I have zero idea.”

The non-believer:

Emma, 34

“Guilt? God, no. The luxury of not having to do a to-do list is so divine, I like to bask in that. I am taking time to recharge my batteries and connect with those I love – why would I feel any guilt around that? As a teacher, I’m used to being off in the summer when my family and friends are still at work. Enjoying yourself in your downtime is like a muscle – you must flex it often for it to function properly. Now, get on the couch, pronto.”