Fully aware that I'm (still) avoiding my Christmas letter because I don't feel yet like reflecting upon 2009.
Fully aware that it didn't even register until 2 days ago that we are also at the end of a decade (that every media outlet in creation is making top-10 lists about), which has caused me to be even more overwhelmed at the pressure to reflect -- either here, or in the Christmas letter.
Fully aware this all sounds terribly negative ... when truly, I don't feel all that negative. Just curious about why and how a writer loses desire to reflect. Or maybe trying to pretend this is not, indeed, how I often seize up when trying to write something "important." I often do.
No. Reflection is good. Living in the moment works, too, effortlessly combining old and new.
Which is how I plan to spend tonight's bridge between the decades: at my old grad-school friend A's place with a bunch of her friends. Drinking wine. Making a new mushroom and caramelized-onion risotto recipe from ye olde creative chef friend, Chris. Eating the last dessert before the diet. Game-playing, hanging with her cats. We might reflect. Although I kind of hope not.
Tomorrow morning I mean to start the new year with a couple shots of espresso, then get in the Mazda and head up the coast to Salisbury. There's a 10K I've registered for.
The NYD run has been constant of my time in Boston .... and the seaside's forecasted bluster (rain, they say) should be no match for last year's post-blizzard ice skitter ... so I'm not worried.
And I'm not planning to give it any symbolism, either. So don't ask.
But Happy New Year. With all due merriment. Really.
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