New Year. New SLAP!

Sometimes I think Google might be my soulmate…

First thing fucking first: This post is not the result of a new year’s resolution. Fuck new year’s resolutions! Stop setting yourself up for such public displays of failure and disappointment, people. You’re better than that! The Turkey’s finished, the parties are over and – assuming you even managed to get any time off in the first place – you’re most likely balls deep in the second most depressing and painful work week of the year. And December weren’t cheap so you’re probably dead broke as well. Trust me when I say that now is not the time to start promising drastic life-affirming changes.

You want to make a real change in your life; do it in the summertime, while the weather’s nice and you’ve got a little more spring in your step. When getting out of bed doesn’t require seventeen alarms and an ice bucket challenge. When going out for a jog doesn’t mean donning four jumpers, a mining lamp and some ice-skates. The daily trial of not fucking up each and every single person you meet already hard enough at this time of year? Why do it to yourself?

Or you can go ahead and try it if you like. See if I care?  Try something new. Improve yourself self somehow. Super enthusiastically in January, at least two wholes times! Then once more with in March a new found steely determination… Then never speak of it again. At least not until the following January…

I’ll wait.

Two hundred-ish words in and I’ve said all of that to say this: I haven’t posted anything in ages. And I’ve just re-upped on my web-page domain name. And if I am going to continue to pay for a website, I should at least occasionally use it, right?

So here I am, four days into 2017, listening to music I’ve never heard before, still reeling from my first gym session in longer than I can remember. Semi-seriously contemplating #DryJanuary, with one wistful eye on the guitar I bought ten years ago and still can’t play, and the other on laundry list of holiday destinations.

But that’s not because a really big clock went bong somewhere. It didn’t suddenly remind me that a man can only have so many twenty first birthdays before he’s shuffles unceremoniously off this mortal coil (I’m on my eleventh if you were wondering). I just decided to do this by myself. On a random. Cause I’m my own goddamn man, goddamnit! As beautiful and unique as the dirtest snowflake.

Fuck New Year’s resolutions… Who needs em?


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