I’m not a big fan of that thing where people pick a word for the year and then make that word and its meaning their focus for the year. I’m more inclined to go with Donnie Darko here, in the sense that focusing on just one particular aspect of your life, or trying to apply a single principle across your whole life is stupid. You can’t just lump everything into one or two categories and completely disregard the rest of the entire spectrum of human thought and emotion.
So my word this year is “Navy”. Because it turns out that it’s totally my colour – in the fashion sense – and I plan to rock it in every way I possibly can, and because, in a whole other sense, it’s down to the wire and the only options are sink or swim, baby.
Also, I’m feeling pretty blue at the moment and it seems to me that “navy” is fittingly descriptive of my life this last while. When it’s all said and done, 2018 was a shitty year.
My favourite part was getting hijacked outside my house a week before Christmas, and watching some random miscreant ride the clutch before speeding off down the road with my Pig, my wedding band, my sapphire necklace, Fitbit, Ray-Bans, house keys and a brand new bottle of Stimorol gum in the bargain.
Don’t ask me why, but that gum really gets me.
Anyway, it’s just short of a month later and I guess it’s time to crawl back out of the hole I’ve been wallowing in and face life, so here I am.
I’ve removed the Fitbit device from my Fitbit profile, so it will stop adding the steps tracked to my cumulative count. But first, I changed the device’s standard greeting to something rude, and set a daily alarm to go off at 2:39 am.
Now, it’s time to move on. I don’t really care for New Year’s resolutions and goal-setting, but the truth is that if I don’t get seriously organized right now, and start thinking and planning BIG, I’ll be sitting here a year from now, no better off. And that is simply not an option.
Happy 2019, everyone.