I guess you’ve all noticed the narky depressive fug that has descended over me. Sorry about that.
I keep reading everyone’s blog posts and tweets and facebook messages of well wishes and excitement about the year ahead. And you know, I could do all that in a snap – OH here’s to 2010, may it be filled with joy and bounty! This year is going to be a good one. I CAN FEEL IT!
But you know what? My Oprah/Dr Phil/The Secret gene mutated some time ago and now I just see it for what it is.
The process of time.
There will be joy and fun and good things.
There will be shit and hell and dark days.
I guess for me it is now having the capacity to see that the dark days do end and that the good times are often there when you least expect them and appear in the most delicious of ways – like a friend sending you material for your first ever quilt, for an unexpected email or parcel in the mail and unanticipated adventures. But you know, the good times from my boys saying something funny or their face when they see you after a day at school or the unplanned activities after school or the dinner conversation which makes everyone laugh or even the quiet that descends on the house when they all go to bed bring me about as much joy as anything else.
But I just can’t do the chipper shit. It’s with a weary resignation that I approach 2010 – more wet beds, more gastro bugs that expose me to more bodily fluids from other people than I ever never imagined would be possible, more financial grief and so on and so forth.
I know there’ll be good times, I know I KNOW.
So with this framework I give you my goals for 2010:
1. To do something each and every day towards securing a regularly published column of my writing.
2. To self-publish a series of cookbooks with Chef (first one ear-marked for March!).
3. To learn hand embroidery.
4. To find something fun and rewarding for myself when the times are the darkest and hardest (eg – I’ve already flagged with eleanorfromthecommentbox that I will be falling on her/loitering at her house when Oscar is in hospital (which is quite close to her house))
5. To call and talk shit with my friends a whole lot more than I have in the last decade.
6. To get to Melbourne again and talk shit with friends and go fabric shopping.
7. To get out to NSW’s Central West Slopes and Plains to sniff the newborn head of my best-friend’s third child.