It’s November 5th, Bonfire Night, the night Britons celebrate the failed attempt to blow up Parliament in 1605.

Fireworks have been going off non-stop outside for hours now, and in Lewes, they’ll be lighting huge bonfires and burning effigies of Guy Fawkes, the Pope, and whichever modern-day public figures are currently on the blacklist.

I like the pagan feel of Bonfire Night, but on this particular November 5th, I’m not going to go out and dance around a bonfire. Instead, I’m staying indoors where it’s warm and cozy and there’s no chance of being hit by a stray firework or getting set alight by a flaming torch. I’m going to drink tea, chill on the couch, and hope that the explosive celebrations have died down by the time I crawl into bed to sleep off this wretched lingering cold.