Year Of The Sloth

SlotPretty sure this year’s going to be a slow year. Sure, some crazy stuff will happen around the world, old diseases might be cured, new ones panicked about, some people will get married, others won’t, and blah blah blah. But for me, it’s going to be a slow burn, perhaps even a slog, to December. Not that  waiting for things is necessarily bad, I’m patiently holding out for baby Prince George’s emo phase that I hope is due in about 15 years.

Now I’m not wanting to make this a negative year, I’ve come to detest negativity for negativity’s sake, but rather due to the fact that impatience runs strong in my family, I (perhaps along with my siblings) will find that 2014’s developments come at a slower pace than I’d like.

Maybe it’s the 24 hour news cycle and the fact that I am all but surgically attached to what’s happening in the world (this is different to what’s happening on the streets (streetz?) – I usually catch up to that four years too late) and who’s shooting whom, and why tax X is wrong but tax Y is a vital social necessity and all that boring politicobabble, that I just want my life milestones to arrive within 2014’s first quarter so that I’m settled down by the fire with a husband, two kids, four novels written, a sinfully large paycheque, and a rock solid pension fund by mid-July.

As it happens, precisely 0% of these goals are currently on the horizon, or even in the works. Sure there are plans in my head, but there are also plans for the first habitable spacecraft with synthesised gravity floating about* up there somewhere and I’m not quite sure how to move things from the cranial ether to the real world. As one person put it “I think I have too many tabs open in my brain, and I can’t find the one that’s playing that awful song”.

2013 moved rather quickly as luck had it. I was whisked off my feet then I zoomed round the world and had a marvellous time. Shenanigans left right and centre, firsts at every turn (first time in drag, first time cooking a roast dinner (complete with giant bird), first time being paid for things I wrote online, first sibling in law… the list goes on). I hardly had time to check my bags on arrival 12 months ago but I seem to have meandered into a more thoughtful year and have been randomly selected for the slower queue at the airport of life… this metaphor got away from me somewhat.

I’ve made a number of resolutions already but I intend to share them slowly and not announce them with great fanfare lest I fail so quickly. While I’m still of the opinion that new year’s resolutions should only be things that you enjoy (eat more cake, never refuse bacon, learn about wine etc) I have grown as a human being – and who saw that coming? – to enjoy things that make me better either in my body or my person. For example, one of my first resolutions is to be able to touch my toes by the end of the year.

While some of you may gasp at my apparent inflexitude, May I remind you that there is literally no obligatory activity experienced by the majority of human-kind that actually requires you to touch your toes without bending your knees. Yet on I must plod with such a pointless goal as I’m now yoga-ing on a semi-regular basis and blending it with snippets of Tai-Chi I’ve managed to glean from the shed-load of martial arts films I’ve binge watched. My plan is to be a bit of a Miyagi-lite by December and see if my new and elongated muscles have done me any good. If they have, then I may take continue in my vague attempt at health. Then again, wine calls.

*I totally missed this pun (or is it simply irony) on first typing but liked it so much I let it stay

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s