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. Continue reading