Thursday, January 3, 2013

When the ball dropped in Times Square a few evenings ago, I averted my eyes the instant it hit bottom in protest of such a ridiculous tradition. More to the point, I averted my eyes from the teevee coverage of the ball dropping, because obviously I wasn’t there in-person. After all, why partake in such an arbitrary demarcation of time? Why indeed? But despite my efforts to opt out, it certainly feels like a new year, for better or worse.

Part of the buzz, I think, is from the people around me. If everybody else has gone Gregorian, then you don’t really have a choice, unless you want to be late or absent from, like, every meeting. That’s only part of the explanation, though, because things are noticeably different around me. I check out my townhouse, and it’s sure getting respectable-looking. I’m more open to the new than ever. There’s a fire in my belly. Things are happening.

That includes some not-so-good things, too, but I don’t think the issues that arrive with a new year are surprising to anyone. Yesterday, for instance, the fuel guage on my car suddenly dropped to empty, right on the highway during rush-hour traffic, despite having topped off the tank two days ago. Nervewracking as it was–“Exactly how big a cluster would it be if my car suddenly stopped now?”–it was just the gauge that was on the fritz. An isolated incident, hopefully, but this car is getting old. I’m refusing to tap into savings, too, in the wake of bills and property taxes, so finances feel a little tighter as well. But hey! With the Mayan apocalypse behind us, there’s nowhere to go but up.