Are we all still here?
Okay. Good. You know what? I think I really do hate artificial reasons to celebrate. Christmas. New Years. Groundhog Day. Whatever. Jesus.
Actually, I'm sort of just hating everything this morning in that vague, disgruntled way I sometimes do. It's gray.
And yes, I have just as much to be grateful for and happy about as I did yesterday but it all seems to have a coating of mold on it today. The mold was there yesterday, too, but it didn't bother me. Why is that? Maybe because New Year's Day is supposed to be all shiny and bright. It's the NEW YEAR! Fuck that. It's Tuesday.
What are you doing today? Is there any day of the year deader than the First of January? I can't even take all the trash I cleaned out of the closets to the dump. The dump is closed. The damn dump is closed. My yard looks like the dump with black trash bags overflowing. We have all day to sit around and be all shiny and bright and then this afternoon we are going over to Lily's for the traditional black-eyed peas and greens. That'll be good.
I hear that there are approximately five thousand bowl games on the TV. I'd just as soon sit around and watch five thousand fish bowls with one gold fish apiece in them. You know what I should do today? I should go pick up all the trash on Lloyd's Main Street. But then I couldn't take them to the dump so forget that. I haven't picked up trash in a long time on Main Street and for awhile it was my personal challenge. Then I got tired of it and decided that I didn't want to do it and guess what? It has not magically disappeared.
But I may take a walk. I am also going to cook breakfast. Hoo boy. It's an exciting life I lead. Last year on New Year's Day I woke up in Cozumel. That made me feel sparkly. That made me feel as if the new year might actually be something amazing. The woman I am in Cozumel is not the woman I am in real life. I prefer the woman I am in Cozumel and you would too. The woman I am in Cozumel is not anxious or fearful or ungrateful. She is kinder and less profane. She is prettier and sexier and younger. She is not tired or achy or sore.
She may be a figment of my imagination.
All right. Breakfast. It's 2013. It would appear that even in 2013 we need to eat. Some things never change. And I guess that's okay, too.