This new year finds me getting over a head cold and gearing up to work on last year’s books. (That’s so last year!) It would be nice to have everything brand new with a brand new year, but lives aren’t like towels. You can’t just buy new ones in the sale. Some books take a long time to get right, as this stack of old drafts attests. Last year was spent rewriting my second book – and some of this year will be spent the same. That’s my lot. But last year, I also finished the first draft of a new book – so many I’ll get two right this year. Anything is possible. Really.
I’m no resolution maker. I like my life the way it is and I don’t need a new calendar or fancy app to tell me to get my patoot out of the chair and lace the trainers on. Today, in particular, I need to tell myself to knuckle down, but I figure it’s part of the transitioning out of illness and crazy-making holidays and back to whatever normal is. That’s my excuse, anyway. It’s all I’ve got on a rainy January with my tepid cup of tea and to-do list.
There is something about January that makes us want to start new things – even when we know the work is to finish what’s already before us. I’m going to be sitting in this chair and working on these pages until May, I reckon. But once we get to May, I do predict a few changes. And just like that, with a new deadline and the first marks made in a brand new calendar, the year begins to take shape. Every day, a cup of tea and a fresh idea can change the world – well, our world, anyway: our moods, our outlooks, our hopes, our dreams. And with that, I’d better switch that kettle on.
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