I’m about a week late with the greetings, but Happy New Year, folks.
I know that by now, I’ve posted a long manifesto (having used the lull between Christmas and New Year’s Eve to have a good, long think), stating my intentions for the year ahead, and the things I’d like to see happen.
But if I can be perfectly frank, I simply don’t have one this year. Not at this point.
Last year, I worked. A lot. My full-time job, as well as a freelance writing job which – while new and challenging – also occupied whatever hours I wasn’t working full-time. So I was a bit frazzled.
Even when I took vacation days off work, I didn’t really feel as if I really had any time off. A lot of it was spent writing. It wasn’t until my freelance gig was put on hiatus that I was reminded that I could take some time to enjoy (the remainder of) my summer.
I realize, in writing those last two paragraphs, that I probably sound a bit ungrateful for the opportunity. I’m really not. But from a time-management standpoint, this was challenging and frustrating. And exhausted. And I lost my work-life balance.
Maybe that’s why I’m just drained from the year that just ended. Maybe I’ve got a whopping case of ennui. But I don’t really have any grand intentions for 2019.
On New Year’s Day, I got up, fixed myself my yearly stack of pancakes … joined a group of “urban explorers” for a neighbourhood walk downtown … ran home for a quick dinner … then back out again for a movie with a friend.
I’d say that was pretty good start to the new year.
But beyond that … there are wants and thoughts swimming in my brain, but it’s submerged in a soupy fog.
Perhaps my immediate strategy is to do the things I want, as I think of them.
Or maybe I’ll get some clarity in the next week or two, when I get some decent nights’ sleep.
But right now, no lists, no intentions, no goals.
Already, everyone’s making plans. But all I really want at the moment is a chance to re-calibrate and find my footing.