We start the year with the best of intentions. But how could we not when we prime ourselves to fall in love with a new year? We throw parties for them. We toast to their good health. We dress up. We make them feel special. For the moment, 2018 is the most beautiful thing to grace your presence since you treated yourself to Chipotle last week. But much like your relationship with that burrito bowl, it’s hard to know how long the love will last.
As far as my own New Year’s goes, I was very fortunate to get out of the city and over to Provincetown (sometimes it helps to be pitiful). For the uninitiated, imagine living in an oil painting of the most quintessential New England town you can imagine and THEN pour some sugar on top and THEN put it by the sea and you might get close to what I’m talking about.
I was treated to the excellent company of new friends, too much Prosecco and gin, good laughs, hands on their way to frostbite, and the best cheese quesadilla this side of the Mississippi. Of course, there was one nasty hangover to deal with in the morning, but it was worth it. 2018 is worth it.
Full up on optimism for the first time in over half a year, I feel like I can accomplish anything. Perhaps even a list of resolutions?
In that spirit, here we go:
- Write every day. Seriously, kid, every day. Hangovers are not an excuse.
- Stop complaining so much (this one has been foiled in the composition of this list).
- Be kinder to others.
- Be kinder to yourself.
- Call your family once a week.
- Maintain at least one of these resolutions.
- Fail miserably.
- Be a walking contradiction.
I don’t know what will happen in the next 12 months, but I have to hope they’re better than the 12 that came before it. Let’s all agree to that, shall we? To hope. Here’s wishing you all a fantastic new year.