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EXT year will be the year of hedonism for millennials. I know this because as of yesterdays announcement, my twenty-something serious friends with serious jobs are acting like theyre 16 and Van-Tam is giving us fake IDs rather than a vaccine in spring; everyones dropping links to grimy nightclubs and all-inclusives to Ibiza in the group chat. Today a friend who works as a civil servant sheepishly confessed to me she shed a tear at the thought of being able to sesh at Bestival this summer. Not partying for nine months has left people with a dopamine deficit they need to relieve and a cash surplus.

Not that well need to spend much. A heavy night will probably consist of spritzer given our alcohol tolerance these days. Especially for me, given it would be my first drink in three years in theory Ive given up alcohol, but Im desperate for a release to mark the end of lockdown. I know that the lesson of Covid is supposed to be along the lines of those swirly-lettered quotes which pepper my Instagram feed, that slowing down has been good for us and made us appreciate what we have. Were supposed to have learnt that wild swimming is forever, but booze and sex are transitory pleasures. But if theyre transitory, surely all the more reason to pursue them while we can we never know when we might lose them again to seasonal Covid.

So well all be making some big life changes post-vaccine. I plan to go to more parties it took one year being squirrelled away to Covid to realise I squirrelled away one too many years to work, and vague, long-term career objectives over immediate pleasures. But thats nothing compared to some people one of my old colleagues is planning to try drugs for the first time, lockdown made her regret all the things shed never done. Young people viewed their lives as over for the last year so theyre celebrating coming back to life with cocaine instead of swimming with dolphins. And, of course, single Londoners will have a years worth of pent-up frustration. I can only imagine therell be some sort of collective climax in April (and hope chlamydia wont be the new Covid). Were on a ridiculous quest for hen do hedonism, desperately clutching at willy straws because were trying to get something we cant have a refund, two years worth of hedonism in compensation for the one we lost. To be honest though, well probably settle for an exchange. As one friend whos listened to Radio 2 since Covid says: I just want to go back to Radio 1.

SOCIAL media has become a group confessional. Were bringing up repressed memories in the way you do in an AA circle, but in the form of screenshots from Spotify Wrapped the music streaming platforms summary of what we listened to this year. 2020 has been bleak, but knowing Celine Dion helped you get through it all is the digital equivalent of caressing our wounds with Maldon salt crystals. I can almost hear Spotifys Silicon Valley programmers sniggering as they realise theyre far from the uncoolest people on Earth. I can only hope the trend for wrapping 2020 wont extend to other platforms. I imagine a lot of guys would be scarred for life by a Pornhub Wrapped, but can you imagine Hinge telling you about the number of times youve been rejected this year, and Citymapper saying you barely left the house in 2020? Ignorance is bliss, and Ill be using the incognito tab in 2021.

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Im planning a summer of post-vaccine hedonism... and the shame of Spotify Wrapped - Evening Standard