Seven Weeks

Photo by Matt Antonioli

You know what's cRaZy?

2020 is in seven weeks.

That means that "the holidays" are in six weeks.

Which means that in the next couple of weeks I will be going to a minimum of seven holiday parties, attempting to pay off my debt while also somehow affording Christmas gifts, attempting to create new healthy habits for the new year while simultaneously hibernating and avoiding any activity that requires me to wear anything other than wool socks and fleece pants.

It will also mean that I will question every decision I make, feeling I feel, and thought I think because that is how my brain (mal)functions in the winter.

I want so desperately for the new year to be a good one but, honestly, that is more of a surface-level hope. I suppose it means that a bit of optimism and motivation has survived the last few years so that's probably worth acknowledgment because lord knows I have failed pretty extravagantly at my goals the last few years.

I have a feeling this year will bring a lot of my fears to the forefront.

And perhaps this is why I am so adamantly against the new year this time around. Because I know what it actually means and it isn't "making new goals" but instead uncovering why I haven't achieved any of the old ones.

2020 is going to demand answers of me to questions I have dodged for years. So, no, I am not looking forward to it.

That said, I am looking forward to the feeling of knowing those answers because although I haven't exactly been the most forthcoming about my feelings, I still want to know what they are. I want to know what "my truth" is. I want to know how to achieve the life I want.

Because whether I like it or not, time is ticking by and I want to stop being afraid of the future.