I Am A Shrug

It gets boring saying goodbye to yet another year and welcoming in a new one with hope and expectation.

It gets boring reflecting on the past 364 days and summarising the entire duration with just one word, usually a negative one.

It also gets boring bothering to wonder what lies ahead. Why bother? None of us can see the future. What will be, will be.

Today is 31 December 2011. Tomorrow will be 01 January 2012.

So, now that we've ascertained my ability to calculate how the calendar works, can we try and pinpoint why such significance and importance is placed on what is actually just another day?

One upon a time, I felt excited about a new year, especially going out on New Year's Eve for a wild night of insanity. But now, I don't feel a thing. I'm neither negative nor positive. I'm neither full of hope nor full of dread.

If I could personify my feelings with an action, I'd be a shrug.

Tonight I have two options, simply put: go out or stay in. Part of me says "go out, have a great time with your friends", but the other part of me argues "it will all end in tears, stay put!"

I'm more inclined to listen to the latter. Based on past experience, New Year's Eve always ends in tears and consequently the following year always begins on an icy downward slope with a deep lake of ice cold, dirty water at the bottom of it.

It might be time for change.

If I don't go out and beckon trouble, I can't wake up tomorrow feeling bleak, and that means my new year won't begin badly. I can't promise it won't begin with a hangover, but at least I'd only be harming myself and leaving half of Bridport out of my mood swings.

I'll decide later.