My Cristal filled crystal held aloft, smile and hopefulness on my face, with Brooklyn friends, husband next to me, all kids at their own table, “Good-bye 2013, Thank God you’re here 2014.” Clink-clink.
Yes, this is my year. Clink-clink. 2013 surely wasn’t.
10…Regrets forgotten. 9…Resolutions made resolute. 8…New attitude. 7…Happy, happy. 6…What’s that tickle in my nose? 5…Ignore. 4…Hello productive 2014. 3…You’re almost here 2014. 2…What is that in my nose? 1…I spend the next seven days vertical, surrounded by a sculpture of used Kleenex, a bottle of Tylenol with lid askew, curtains drawn and in pajamas. My resolutions of new beginnings, self-fullfilment and increased energy now balled up with my expelled insides all cast to the ground in a heap of sick.
Not exactly the start I was hoping for.
Between pages of The Goldfinch, fever-induced naps, and reruns of Sex in the City, I’m all pep talk and positivity. “Just a little set-back.” “Don’t give up so easy.” “No days wasted.” “It’s still your year.”
My face looks like its been on an expedition to the Antarctic. All scabs and parched skin under my nose and atop my lip. The constant coughing surely counts for a few ab workouts and my lack of appetite, a little weight loss? What I’ve blown from my nose and coughed up has got to account for a few good pounds.
On Wednesday, I’m on two feet again, vertical, and not wearing slippers. As I find my footing in this new year, how about a new pair of shoes to help me stand tall?
All found on yoox.com. Not a bad place to start 2014.