I understand why there are tons of articles with this title at this time of year – it’s easy copy, because everyone wants this year to be the year they stop being a self-imagined fuckup, and it’s easy to make lists of what everyone is doing oh so wrong in their lives.* (Hey, you – the one nodding about being a fuckup. Yes, you. I’m pretty sure you’re not a fuckup, so stop reading articles that make you feel like it.)
But there is a lot to be said for the beauty of a new year and an empty calendar. Personally, I am incredibly hit or miss on official resolutions. Sometimes I make them, sometimes I don’t, and they’re usually out the window within two weeks anyway. I think the years that I am feeling more optimistic are the years that I make them. Bad years I tend to be more, “Screw you world, this is as good as it gets and if you can’t handle the
dysfunctional being that is me awesome, that’s your problem, not mine.”
This year I’ve got the usual things in the back of my head that I know I need to work on. Use the gym membership more often. Make the house not look like a tornado hit it. Eat more salad. Things that I at least think about every year even if I don’t make a list.
This year there are a couple more things on my mind. Only one year left in grad school, so I should probably figure out a way to put that to some use by this time next year. (Or not. I say that only because it will annoy some people who don’t understand I did this for myself as much as anything else.)
The other is writing. Not that I’m not actually writing, I am. (As a matter of fact, I’m doing it right now!) If you see a brunette woman in a bar, drinking a Guinness and furiously scribbling in a notebook, it might just be me. (Notebook: usually fiction or journal. IPad: blogging. MacBook: working on a paper that is probably due the next day. Approach with caution if the laptop is out.)
So, not exactly the writing, but putting it out there. Writing more here. (Y’all did respond very positively to my recent activity, so this is a little bit your fault. Or you just really like Williamsburg, which is OK, too.) Putting my writing out to the universe for rejection. Or who knows, maybe acceptance. And really, how will I get a mega book deal unless the world can see how delightfully awesome I am?
So, you’ll be hearing more from me in the new year. I hope you enjoy it.
*Maybe it’s my imagination, but I swear Huffington Post is the worst with articles on “6 ways you’re being a fuckup, RIGHT THIS SECOND.”