I woke up in a Cleveland hotel room on January first with a mouth tasting of cranberry juice and vodka. I’d fallen asleep with my glasses on, which is how I gauge how tired I was the night before. As the weekend’s events flooded back like the tide filling up Fundy, I got to thinking, first about whether or not I actually threw up some time around 3 AM, and then about what the new year offers. 2006 is dead, just as well.
New Year’s resolutions, when you think about them, are always so hollow. Oh sure, they’re usually things which a person ought to do generally, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to go on a diet this year if you need it, but come on. New Year’s resolutions are a mockery of self-improvement. Its done because its traditional, its something EVERYBODY does, and its just as traditional to break them within a week, and then laugh about it.
I say the hell with it. I don’t need to make a New Year’s Resolution, so it would be meaningless for me to do so. Hollow and hypocritical, so why bother? No. There will be no Resolution just because of the turn of the year. But I do vow one thing. Last year, despite all the shit I went through, I still managed to suck the marrow from life, and this year promises to offer even better opportunities to do so. And rest assured, I will do so.