For the first time in God-knows-how-many-years, I’m not prepared for a New Year. It is a time of the year that always fills me with great hope, of the world beneath my feet, of possibilities. This year, I’m doing nothing about it (yet). I don’t have a new journal. I don’t even have a pocket diary for 2012, which is madness, because I find it hard to function without making daily lists on paper.
I don’t have a ‘word for the year’. (Although, on 2 January, I thought I did. I even wrote a blog post about it but have not published it yet because I’m not convinced about the word. Which probably means it is not the right one.)
I don’t have a list of resolutions or goals or intentions. I don’t have an income goal on paper nor do I have a list of publications I want to see my byline in. On the fourth day of the New Year, I feel utterly hopeless. Where is this writing experiment going? Who am I kidding pretending to be a writer (or a parent)? Why is my life not the life I want it to be?
It all comes down to one thing: Too. Much. Cake.
Cake is the root of my problems. What else could it be?
It’s a good thing that the festive season is coming to an end. That means no more cake for sometime unless I consciously go to the cake shop and bring home a treat. That’s not going to happen. At least not until mid-February when M’s birthday comes along.
If I don’t feel better by then (sans cake), I’ll have to find something else to blame.
How about you? Are you prepared for a new year?