When I was a little girl, all the new year meant to me was that it would soon be time to go back to school. I didn’t like school that much. Resolutions? I don’t remember resolving to do anything except maybe play more. I also don’t remember when I was “introduced” to the notion of resolutions, though my teachers were always “suggesting” that I work up to my “potential.”
I think that was code for: quit daydreaming.
Note to all past teachers: I still daydream. A lot.
Note to anyone still reading this blog post: this post is not about making resolutions.
When I saw the hubs photo above, it made me think of potential. Of the mysterious. Of the unknown.
One thing surviving for so fricking long has taught me, I can resolve to do crap, but usually Life Happens. A lot. Sometimes Life is good, sometimes it kicks my tush.
And yet, I still find myself at yet another yearly crossroad, excited by the possibilities of a whole new, fresh year.
Of course I want to do “better,” whatever better is, but both the cool stuff (and the hard stuff) have been unexpected.
Pauline Baird Jones
Perilously romantic fiction for armchair adventurers
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