Yes, I know, I should have written this yesterday, or the day before. I was busy writing 10,000 words of erotica. No I don’t care if you judge me for it, and yes it will be on sale soon for your Kindle. Besides, I feel no strong pull anymore to mark buying a new calender (well, if I bought calenders, which I don’t because I am confident the entire internet will never crash.) I suppose it is a good excuse to party, but I really don’t need that anymore. If want to party, I do. I call my friends, ask them what’s up and if we can we get together. No special occasion needed (that said: Buffalo peeps, hit me up.)
As I get older I find I have enough marker’s of the passage of time. This weekend my wonderful nephew, my baby sister’s boy, turns twenty one. So there’s that. Birthdays, weddings, holiday dinners and yes, even funerals, maybe especially funerals, remind me of time’s march. Friends move away, I move away, friends move back, and I move back. Change is what defines time and it is relentless. As much as I may want to deny it: I am no longer young.
Which is a good thing because the person I was then is not the person I am now. There are things I miss about that person, but there are also things I am very happy to be well done with. Every step of my journey has brought me to now and while that may not be where I had hoped it would be, it is also not where I dreaded it would be. It is here, and that is enough.
So while I don’t begrudge all of you your New Years parties, and certainly not your resolutions (I have a repeat this year: treat my writing like a job) I feel no burning need to make a big deal out of January 1st. That is just the change in the last digit when I fill out a deposit slip. Still, enjoy your New Year, and I hope you all make progress toward the goals you set for it. Pax et Amor; Christine Whi