Welcome to the rest of the year

The first day of 2006 has been surprisingly long and even-more surprisingly productive.

Surprisingly long considering how much of it I slept through. I got up around 1pm…probably closer to 1:30pm…so I’ve been awake for less than 10 hours. Add in the fact that I fell asleep for almost an hour while watching football, and we’re talking about a nine-hour day. In that time, I’ve worked on the music for this year’s FASS musical (auditions are next week), updated my office football pool, dropped into my office briefly, and caught up with some people on the phone.

Okay, okay. That doesn’t really sound like much. But it’s not the quality of work; it’s the quantity. No wait, I mean it’s the quality, not the quantity. Yeah, that’s right.

And you know what? This is a dumb topic, so let’s ditch it and talk about new year’s resolutions.

I haven’t got any.

I never do. I think it’s a little silly that a somewhat arbitrary changing of the calendar year is taken to be so meaningful. But that’s the way we are, I suppose. We see birthdays as new years…September is the new school year…and January is the calendar new year.

We’re all about beginnings, aren’t we? Most of us see our lives as books with chapters. And you know, that’s kinda nice. It’s one of the few things that we, as a race, are optimistic and positive about. In general, we take great joy and promise out of the idea of a new beginning or a new chapter in our lives. And that’s great…with one caveat.

In order to start a new chapter, you have to end the previous one.

At this point in the scatterthought, I need to comment on the scatterthought. You see, I went on to blather endlessly about how we see our lives as books, and how maybe it’s better to see ourselves as libraries. And then I decided that was stupid. And then I commented on how some would be tempted to use the Internet as a metaphor for life, but that I refuse to do that because it’s too geeky to be poetic.

And then I deleted it all, cuz it kinda sucked. And while I’d like to preserve the memory that I wrote it, I don’t want to preserve the actual words.

They were that bad. So bad, that they corrupted my ability to write anything that I’m actually satisfied with. So I’m stopping here, and filing this under “Wastes of Your Time”.

Bleah.

Russ