The tree is still up and the house still decorated. We've had the first blizzard of the year, and the weather patterns in New England (and the world) seem to be having some sort of collective nervous fit. At the moment the wind is howling outside like some large and very angry beast, and the prospect of venturing out to get to work is daunting to say the least. I can manage the "onion" dressing routine of layer upon layer upon layer, but I am wondering if I'll be blown off the Fort Port Channel Bridge and into the water. I haven't had the courage yet to look at the weather report. Ah, winter in New England.
Worst of all, I can smell the end of winter break, and Son Number Two will be off on a plane on Saturday to get back to school. Assuming that planes are flying on Saturday. We can usually count on a snow storm or similar "snag" each time he gets near the airport. Last night Himself said if the planes aren't flying we will spend the weekend driving him to Cleveland. DRIVING him to Cleveland??? Uh. OK. Son Number One goes back next weekend, which means another road trip to New York, but that seems so much closer than it used to.
I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, as I've mentioned before. I try (mostly in vain) to make every day better than the last. I have joined with some friends, however, in a competition to lose the greatest percentage of body weight by March. Money is always such a cute motivator.
New Year's Eve found me at a bar with Himself. OK, we were home by 9PM, but it still felt daring and I had two cosmopolitans. Note to self: two is the ABSOLUTE limit. Somewhere near the bottom of the second glass I started getting some wonderful ideas about becoming a motivational speaker for middle school students and I was pretty excited about it. I think I still am. It certainly makes more sense than selling sequin-bedazzled sweaters at the mall. The year is still in front of me like a freshly opened box of Crayola crayons, all pointy and tidy and bursting with promise. Somewhere around June I seem to be peeling back the wrapper on a broken nub to get the rounded end to make a mark on the paper, and where does that "thing" come from that makes them scratchy? You know, that invisible piece of whatever it is that feels like a tiny shard of glass? But for right now, it's game on. Bring it, 2014. I've reached the age of "Hey, why not?" and you're in trouble now!
Worst of all, I can smell the end of winter break, and Son Number Two will be off on a plane on Saturday to get back to school. Assuming that planes are flying on Saturday. We can usually count on a snow storm or similar "snag" each time he gets near the airport. Last night Himself said if the planes aren't flying we will spend the weekend driving him to Cleveland. DRIVING him to Cleveland??? Uh. OK. Son Number One goes back next weekend, which means another road trip to New York, but that seems so much closer than it used to.
I'm not big on New Year's resolutions, as I've mentioned before. I try (mostly in vain) to make every day better than the last. I have joined with some friends, however, in a competition to lose the greatest percentage of body weight by March. Money is always such a cute motivator.
New Year's Eve found me at a bar with Himself. OK, we were home by 9PM, but it still felt daring and I had two cosmopolitans. Note to self: two is the ABSOLUTE limit. Somewhere near the bottom of the second glass I started getting some wonderful ideas about becoming a motivational speaker for middle school students and I was pretty excited about it. I think I still am. It certainly makes more sense than selling sequin-bedazzled sweaters at the mall. The year is still in front of me like a freshly opened box of Crayola crayons, all pointy and tidy and bursting with promise. Somewhere around June I seem to be peeling back the wrapper on a broken nub to get the rounded end to make a mark on the paper, and where does that "thing" come from that makes them scratchy? You know, that invisible piece of whatever it is that feels like a tiny shard of glass? But for right now, it's game on. Bring it, 2014. I've reached the age of "Hey, why not?" and you're in trouble now!
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