Happy January!

Happy January! I don’t feel I can realistically say “Happy New Year,” as 2019 is already slightly used, but I was traveling right after the New Year and I don’t really feel like I’ve fully appreciated that we’ve all arrived-- smack-dab, ready or not-- in 2019.

When I first went to work at the Shopper, lo these many years ago, I needed to set up a date in the program we use for classified ads—some sort of infinity date that would carry over my much-needed items into perpetuity. I chose 2020.

In hindsight (See what I did there? 2020? 20/20? Hindsight? Sort of a play on words/vision joke? It was a clever image—ha! Image! I did it again! —and I’d hate for you to miss it. And yes, I’m the funniest person I know, thanks for asking. Where was I?)

In hindsight, setting 2020 as my infinity date turns out to be rather short-sighted. (Please note that I’m not pointing out the rest of my subtle repartee; the onus is on you, Gentle Reader, to savor the delicious witticisms. And no, I did not get a Thesaurus for Christmas, why do you ask?)

Anyway—my point is that eons ago 2020 seemed impossibly far away, and now every time I write the current date I am reminded that ‘Impossibly Far Away’ is, in fact, less than a year away. (Note to self: remember to change classified date settings before you lose all your perpetual items.) Time---stop me if you’ve heard this one before—flies. 

All the above is just my way of working the conversation around to the fact that I haven’t made any resolutions. Yet. Nor have I completely packed away my Christmas decorations—my tree is still standing, wearing only its billion twinkly lights. I’m in no hurry to take it down, as the lights are so cheery on dark days and the tree is still fresh and green. So fresh, in fact, that I wonder if it has perhaps sprouted roots? I should probably check. 

Should I happen to make procrastination one of my resolutions, I’m very confident I’ll be able to keep it. 

Eventually.