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Tonight many of us will giddily proclaim that 2015 will be different.  We will make a list of all the things at which we are crap, pin it to the fridge door and gaze fondly at it each time we attack the leftover Christmas ham or reach for just one more beer.  By January the list will be papered over with minimum repayment notices from our credit providers as the chooks come home to roost and the wisdom of that new flatscreen television becomes questionable.  But at least we’ll be ready for Netflix, right?  And those PS4 games look bloody awesome!  No doubt about it, 2015 is going to be the year we take life by the scrotum.  The one perturbation we face is how the scrotum-of-life has managed to elude us for so long, and why should the scrotum-of-life in 2015 be any less elusive?

It’s 1800hrs, New Year’s Eve, and the list-monkeys will be salivating, up to their fifth draft, maybe still wrestling with the Big Questions such as “should I rank my NYR’s by priority or not?” and “shall I go with ten NYR’s or just five?”  Whatever works, I guess.  Do we carefully categorize our unrequited desires or just spew them onto the page?  I guess it all depends on how anxious you are, how desperate your circumstances, how bad the last twelve months have been, and whether you are ready to become a ‘change manager’ or let slip the cojones-of-life for another year.  The most terrible aspect of this day, every year, is that it causes each of us to take a hard look at our performance and declare it an annus horribilis, mirabilis, or whatever the Latin word is for “almost everything I wanted but not quite.”  So what will I attempt to do differently next year?  Trying to be as pragmatic as possible, I will say up front — not much.  But I will edit my work more thoroughly, I will join a writer’s critique group, and I will endure my revulsion for Facebook stoically.  I will keep writing every chance I get, and actively work to create more chances.  This will mean saying ‘no’ a lot more and being selfish with my time.  So be it.  I won’t go to the grave wondering how many stories I have in me.  I want to curl up at my end-of-days utterly spent, with not one word left to say.

So good luck with your list!  I hope you get to cross some off.  You know, be the person you want to be (or somebody like them), et cetera.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Garmin Vivosmart I got for Christmas is telling me to get off my ass and “MOVE!”

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