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Hello and Happy New Year!

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time (hi Mum!), you’ll know that I love New Year’s. Christmas is cool, but I love waking up on New Year’s Day and feeling like there’s a fresh new year waiting for me. One full of wonder and potential; one I haven’t fucked up yet. It’s like the feeling you get when you open a brand new blank notebook, times a million. At the same time, I like looking back over the previous year and thinking about it, finding a way of looking at it that brings it into sense. I like to spend NYE cleaning up and making the house immaculate so that when I get up on NYD, I’ve maximised that feeling of freshness and newness. Then I spend NYD doing a little of all the things I want to do a lot of in the coming year: music, spinning, knitting, reading, writing, cooking, and this year, even travelling! Ah, New Year’s.

I don’t even care that it’s an entirely made-up concept—all human things are made up, once you get beyond the basic four Fs—I like it. I like knowing that a lot of other humans are doing a similar thing, too: they’re thinking about the year that was and the year that is to come, and we’re all secretly hoping this will be the year everything goes perfectly. We’ll all finally learn Portugese and write that dang novel, get fit, lose weight, become stylish and suddenly know how to cook. And we’ll all (well, most of us), do something entirely otherwise. Some people will have that year: they’ll zero in on something they’ve long wanted or worked towards. Some people will not have that year: they’ll have a year of disruptions, heart-breaking phone calls and white-knuckle medical appointments.

Then in twelve months’ time, an approximation of one orbit of the sun, we’ll all meet back here and compare notes about how it went. It won’t be at all what we expected, and nor should it be, because what kind of a story would that make? And then we’ll all toast the year that was, and take the wrapping off the next one and do it all again. I love it.

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