Two types of people have emerged in this first week of 2023.
The first, what I’ll call the ‘typical,’ slightly manic enthusiast who’s convinced that tossing the ol’ 2022 calendar in the trash naturally equates to turning over a new leaf in all aspects of life.
The second, seemingly far more common specimen, is the tentative, somewhat reticent clinger-on — from fond memories made last year to the holiday decor still twinkling amidst piles of presents {and perhaps a few rogue NYE leftovers}.
I’ll let you hazard a guess as to which camp I fall into.
Not that I can’t appreciate the whole ‘new year, new me’ mantra; but realistically, it’s the old you + a week of attempting to crawl out from under a month or so worth of overindulgences. From Christmas cookie crumbs to holiday bills, January has always been more of a time for recovery than new beginnings, to me.
Toss in a few unscheduled snowstorms and the fact that any signs of daylight are all but extinguished by 5 o’clock and… well, yeah. I’m far more likely to tackle a new book than a brand new outlook on life at this point.
That said, much respect to those with loftier goals. Here’s hoping both schools of thought find their way to some sort of happy middle ground — one that can be realistically traversed for more than just a day or two at a time.
Cheers to week one. 🥂