I hate New Year's Eve.
I'm a teacher, so I don't even think in "years" the way normal people do. The year begins in late August and ends at Memorial Day. June, July, and early August are time to take stock, heal up, learn new things, experience life, sleep, hike, camp, and then it starts again. The idea that the year ends today and starts new tomorrow is ludicrious.
The year takes two and a half months to end and begin again. It must gestate. Cocoon. A countdown and a kiss at midnight is not enough to mark the end of one and the start of the new.
But here is the way I will end it:
Last year, last fall and winter, I was living at my parents' house and in the process of divorcing. I had recently been let go from one job, which, as a teacher, is a devastating thing, a career ender. My kids were angry and sad at alternating intervals.
This year, I have moved into my own place. The divorce is final. I got my master's degree and my job, although often crushingly hard, is well-paid and my boss likes me. My kids are less angry and less sad. I threw my first party. The squatters are gone, my neighbors see me, and I am standing on my own two feet.
That's not a bad year.
Not a bad year at all. Happy January 1st. I understand about the teacher/year thing.ReplyDelete
I like the idea of a year needing to gestate and cocoon. And even though I've been out of school for eons, I still think of the year as beginning in September.ReplyDelete
And congratulations for all you have accomplished this year--it sounds like you're in a much better place.
What a year. And what a difference a year makes. And beautiful writing. Don't disappear.ReplyDelete