Reb and Seymour

What does 2015 bring? Well, at the moment a serious sore throat and laryngitis. What did 2014 give me? I have no idea. I have an awful memory. I got a job. First job in years. We got new cats, Reb Brown and Seymour. Our house-mate Jen moved out and got engaged. My neices from America came to stay. My wife started a new job in a nursery. We have chickens. Hamsters came and went. Things happened. Life continued on as it does. I don’t understand this desire to look back, to look back, look forward, start over.

Why start over? If you weren’t willing to make the effort to live your life six months ago why do you think you’re going to be able to do so during January when it’s cold and dark and wet. You’re down on your vitamin D, down on your serotonin, and wrapped up like a sausage roll trying to remember the last time you saw the sun and, and lose weight/quit smoking/give up whatever.

You should’ve tried that six months ago in July, when it was sunny and you were happier and weren’t carrying around an extra five pounds of winter fat underneath the five pounds of winter clothing you’re wearing. Trust me. Start in spring. Spring is about new beginnings. January is about trying not to kill yourself as the depression finally hits it’s peak and you realise you enjoyed Christmas while sacrificing the ability to pay your bills and people don’t care any more. They only cared for that damn day we pretend Jesus was born on when we know he was born in the summer. You know, summer? Do you remember it?

Me neither.

My plan every new years eve is to stay sober, stay okay. I guess I struggle with winter more than I realise. Christmas is okay, it’s fine. I prefer thanksgiving I guess. I get cake and presents and I appreciate everything my wife does and everything we do together but I still feel like something is missing.

New Years is worse though. I’ve had serious problems with New Years since I was a kid but I couldn’t tell you exactly when it started. Or why it started. There is something dark about it that I can never fully explain to anyone. Something happened one year. Something bad that set it all off but I don’t know what it was or when it happened.

I don’t care to find out.

The Amazing Balls Of Justice – recipe available on request.

I don’t think about it much any more, the worst of it. I don’t drink it away or overdose or cut it away. This year I worked until five and came home to my wife, my niece and my nephew who had spent the afternoon baking and had made biscuits and ‘Amazing Balls Of Justice‘ which were little cakes that were supposed to be doughnuts but the oil was too hot and it was a little too dangerous. I missed this, probably for the best.

This year there are plans, some big, some small. Like I need to get my eyes tested. Not something I’ve been waiting for the new year to do, I’ve just not had time. Few other appointments I’ve not had time to do cause I’ve been working. Some other things there are to talk about. I’ve had this post in my head about recycling bopping about for a few weeks now.

Anyway, that’s my dark little ramble, the usual way to continue with my life. However, of all the year reviews/looking forward to 2015 things out there, there is only one bloke who can really match the way I feel about it all: Charlie Brooker.

Reasons to be fearful 14. Epic.

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