Tick, tick, tick

3 January 2008

I don’t really get into the spirit of New Year’s celebrations. The calendar is, after all, just an arbitrary numbering system. Birthdays I can go along with, since it’s the number of laps around the sun since a particular event. But calendar years don’t really have a tangible reference point; the numbers were plucked out of thin air.

So I always feel like New Year’s eve parties are celebrating nothing. The clock ticking over another second, just like all the other seconds. Even the fact of the inevitable countdown turns an otherwise decent party into a tedious chore. Is it midnight yet? Because I want to go home.

This year, I didn’t celebrate the New Year, not properly. I went to a couple of different parties, but we left the first one long before midnight and the second one was actually a thirtieth birthday party. It was nice: just a regular party, with champagne and whiskey and cupcakes and friends.

But now I’m wondering whether I shouldn’t go along with the New Year’s traditions, just this once. 2008 might be just a number, but it feels more genuinely like a clean break this time. I was at work on 2 January to start cleaning out my office. Next week I’m flying off on a mission to find somewhere to live, and when I get back we’ll have to start packing. February is the journey, and March is a new job.

So given that, perhaps I will make some resolutions this year.

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