Intentions

I’m not superstitious, religious, “spiritual,” or otherwise supernaturally inclined, horoscope-reading, or tarot-curious, but even I can’t seem to pass on remarking on the new year. It isn’t just a new number or the turnover to a new decade, is it? I mean, I don’t remember much of anything about 2010 but I know it didn’t feel like this. The year 2020 just seemed so far away for so much of our lives, it’s kind of hard to process how fast everything is going.

And despite all the types of people I am not (see the first sentence of this paragraph), a friend of mine joked that I should “begin as you mean to go on,” after one of the first things I said just after 00:00 January 1st turned out to be about romance writing leaning on the decidedly unsexy trope of hitting the cervix and “entering her womb.” (Side note: I don’t know whose bag that is and who needs to hear it, but that is not a mainstream sexy thing us uterus-havers love to hear about.)

Another type of person I’m generally not: one who makes new year’s resolutions. But I did learn that a friend of mine does yoga near me and was looking for friends to attend that with. So I’ve been mulling over going with her sometime “after the holidays” and all, even though making that time means leaving the kids with Marc before their bedtime routine starts. And, well, I’m a creature on social media; I’ve been seeing celebrities and friends alike tally up the last decade and set their intentions for the new year out there. And I wonder about what mine would be, if I were the type of person to make resolutions. Which I’m not.

I think they might be:

  • do more work. My first paid work in over a year was this past November, and still ongoing since it’s a book project. I’d like to do more. Get more experience, build up a portfolio, get myself out there. Position myself for having more free time when the twins go to some kind of day program.
  • make more art. I have the last of my watercolor supplies in the mail now and plan to try lettering and some nature studies. I also have some crochet projects. And if I’m feeling overly ambitious, I have knitting to try to get better at too. And a few pieces of writing that have been on the back burner since about 2015, which my brain’s unkindly been trying to tack on a few more words to every few weeks since.
  • read more books. I know how much fanfic I’ve devoured in years past and have moved back to books in the last year. But I’d like to keep track and make more of an effort with it.
  • cook more. Better for me, my family, and our budget.

If I were another person entirely writing resolutions for myself, I think they’d be different actually. Something like:

  • sleep more. Currently, I go to bed somewhere between 1am and 3am and am up around 7:15 with the kids. I catch up on sleep during their naps and on weekends.

But there’s a reason I’m not that person. Last night, knowing Marc was going to be up in the early morning with the kids, I started watching a Netflix show I’d already read that not very good and had a fairly high probability of actively pissing me off (for utterly gratuitous sexposition reasons; the show is of course The Witcher) and which I had absolutely no background in the book or video game lore. And then I stayed up until 4am watching said show, not 100% enjoying it. I listened to some loud neighbors count down the time and watched my computer clock flip over to 12:00am. The rest of the house was asleep so I continued watching a kind of mediocre show.

Begin as you mean to go on, is it? Just as well I’m not one of those people.

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