Remember Limbo Rock? My Year of the Limbo.
Neither married or single. Separated? The bullshit term. Not even legal recognition in Pennsylvania. I too, prefer picking one or the other. Tethered or untethered.
This is the day of the countdown. The day for ending and beginning a new cycle. Wipe the slate.
Not a countdown for a year, but for a life. From what number should I start counting the years—80, 90, 100? Am I the human already born who might live to 150? Nah. I’ll start at 90. 90-66=24. Almost a quarter of a century for aspirations and fulfillment and understanding the meaning of life. And death.
I may have given myself too long. I can work with it.
I’m making that #1 repetitious resolution for this year. Then never repeat it again! Lose the 30 lbs. I gained this year. My doctor gave me the tally on my last visit. No. I brought it up before he could scan my chart. I offered excuses. The food smörgåsbord of the city. Fancy coffees. Meals and drinks with kids and friends and alone. Emotions. Truth? Perseverance. “I’ll lose it before my next visit in June,” I promised. Then he told me the name of his favorite restaurant in the city.
My appropriated mantras for 2018. Do one thing every day that scares you. Do one thing every day that inspires you. Leaving it wide open.