Less Doom, More Joi

A new day.  A new year.

My mother stayed over last night.  We all went to bed at 10:30.  Everyone in the house is struggling to be healthy.  Some bug that doesn't destroy you but keeps reminding you not to do much.  We ate my special pork and beans from the pressure cooker with rice and collard greens.  A true southern feast.  We sat outside before the fire in the fire pit and watched the nearly full moon rise in a cloudless, deep blue sky.  We drank champagne and ate deserts and watched a movie.

All before the stroke of 10:30.

I can't imagine watching Maria Carey and whatever pop-rock was happening in seemingly every city in the world, but there are many things I can't imagine.  Most, really.

So a dramatic year closes dully.

My friend dropped by while we were cooking dinner.  He asked me what my New Year's resolution was.  I truly don't have one.  Such things have never made sense to me.  Ili and I had stopped at a gym earlier in the day to sign up to try one of their workouts.  The trainer to whom we were speaking asked me what my fitness goal was.  I said to get taller.  Maybe I should make more goals and resolutions.  I don't know, but the things I want are all unattainable.  It has done me no good to pursue them.

Maybe I should resolve to lose the sense of dread that has enveloped me.  Inevitable doom, etc.  I'll try that one, I think.  Less doom, more joi.

We'll see how that works out.

But it is a symbolic day, so I will try to live symbolically.  Hoist the Jolly Roger and sail with me into the future.

What could go wrong?