Dear January 1st
You may represent a fresh start to some people and a brain bleaching hangover to others,
but to me you mean nothing.
I’m sorry, I know it must hurt to hear that but it’s true. Of all the holidays us uncultured Westerners celebrate you truly are the most hollow.
The scalding beach of the New Year is scattered with countless frantic flopping resolutions gasping to breathe. Most die instantly, to no purpose other than stinking up the immediate space with guilt.
but to be honest, those folks were going to succeed no matter what day they began their journey on.
And by the way, why don’t we get an animal every year like the Chinese?
That seems like a good way to do it, what could be cooler than the year of the dragon?
I think maybe we should skip the year of the rat though.
Seems too much like setting yourself up for failure.
You know, with pestilence, famine and all.
You do mark the end of the holidays which in my (and more than a few other folks cases)
means we get to stop for a good long look in the mirror.
Even if only because we can’t afford to pay for any more cheer.
So as I poke with disgust at the flabby fruit of all those mince pies
- I can only think of one thing
What the hell do you have to do with any of this?
I am responsible for my life
Your presence makes no difference to how I react.
If I’m unhappy in my relationships - I fix them.
If I’m having trouble with finances - I stop spending so much while I find a way earn better.
If I cannot see my manhood because it is eclipsed by my enormous festive gut,
well, you see where this is going.
I think what you represent over and above all else is pressure.
Not a healthy driving pressure from within but rather one that pokes at you and in the
most whiney voice it can muster says
“you suck, you are where you were last year
and you are not good enough.”
I resent you pressuring me to feel like I should change, when you don’t even have
the decency to stick around to see all the changes I make on the other 364 days of the year.
But then again that’s probably just me.
So until next year when we get to do this all over again.
Hugs, kisses and contempt