For my New Year’s Eve post, I’d love to say something inspirational, but all I’ve got is “Thank god this freaking year is over.” I don’t know why I’ve fixated on Jan. 1 as the day my luck turns around; that makes as much sense as believing the world is going to end because the Mayan calendar cycle stopped. But there is something about that clean slate; the ball drops, we wipe the old year out and start writing the new one, the one where we’ll be smarter, thinner, fitter, more efficient, less cluttered, the one where there’ll be no bras beside the computer, no spinach wilting in the fridge, no unwashed dishes or unlaundered clothes or dogs with back problems that require expensive MRIs. . .
Wait. Is that just me? Never mind.
Anyway, I’m not making any resolutions this year. Actually, I never make resolutions, but usually I have a Plan. I definitely had one last year but that didn’t make it past January 19 when the universe hit me with a Zamboni, and then backed up and hit me again. So I have decided that Plans are now in the same category as Resolutions, a waste of time and life. From now on I’m living in the moment because even with the hellish year I had, more than half of the moments were good ones, but I missed them because I was obsessing about the other half (which, to be fair, were trying to kill me).
So from now on, I’m giving up on internal messages like “Why did you do that stupid thing?” and “How are you ever going to fix this in the future?” and just stick with “How’re we doing right now?”
Right now I’m curled up in a warm bed under my favorite quilt with a poodle and a dachshund snoring beside me. We’re doing brilliantly, thanks.
Wishing you nothing but good times ahead in 2013, one moment at a time.