Remember when we did resolutions? I remember being a teen and taking them quite seriously. How funny that seems now.
I’m definitely a planner but that’s very different to having resolutions. A list of things to achieve. At this point in my life I’m happy getting through each week, month, year…living reasonably happily and steadily is my only true desire but I wouldn’t consider that a resolution.
Life has a way of whipping out the rug from under your feet when you feel you have things under control or maybe even getting somewhere. That’s a level of cynicism developed over many years of life whipping out the rug from your under your feet.
So I’m just going to keep on chugging along. Doing the best I can at this single parenting malarkey. Working, paying the bills. keeping the house clean enough so as not to attract the condemnation of the WHO. Spending time with my family and friends who are the scaffolding to my crumbling facade. Listening to music and going to gigs because that shit fills up my empty soulless interior area. Reading and watching stuff on the big and the small screen because, well, see above. More volunteering when I can because sweet baby cheesus us middle class white peeps need to put some effort in FFS (also see above).
Without wishing to cause nausea in any readers I do feel I’ve learnt some hard lessons about myself this year and I plan to keep those lessons front and centre as I go into 2019. I haven’t learnt the meaning of life and I haven’t made any saccharine revelations about the beauty of life but I have realized no one is going to save me from me or from the emptiness or loneliness. There’s just me. I can save myself. I always have and I always will.
If you read this drivel I wish you all the good things for the upcoming spin around the sun. Live. Love. Laugh. Take the piss. Whatever rocks your boat.
Here’s my buddy Frank with his buddy Jon to take us out.