What happens after the ball drops on the new year is a mysterious ether of forgotten time. You kiss someone, you drink what's left of a bottle of Jägermeister and you spill your guts to the first friend who will listen. They will hug you while you cry with the realistic sadness of your past in stubborn pessimism for the moment. All they can offer you is the promise of a better future. All you want is a fulfilling present.
I woke up on January first with a tiny, grey cat looking me in the face. In the next few days of being hungover I reassessed where my life was heading. It was time to start a new year.
Today, my fears are slipping away. Every day I am adhering to the trueness of my self. I am at work, wishing everyone I pass in the hall "Happy Friday" and getting excited for a holiday weekend. We are ordering a delicious lunch and I'm listening to music on my laptop. Some coworkers brought in fake moustaches and I affected a snobbish accent to go along with mine. I'm wearing my favorite outfit. My best friend and I will be hanging out tonight. The happiness of this moment that so inspired me to write about it isn't such a transient thing.
A recap of 2011 so far would be best put in saying that it got to me where I am right now.
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