The holidays are always the best and the worst time of the year for me. I love the romantic side; the theory behind the holiday if you will. But I detest the actual holiday. We spend so much time and money on presents, and wrapping presents, wondering if the recipient will like/want/enjoy it, and two seconds after unwrapping, it’s already over.
New Years Eve is another big let down. The only times I remember being super excited (ok, more like ecstatic) about midnight was the couple of times I was super drunk at midnight. When you are that drunk, everything is exciting.
Every other time it felt like any other night.
This year was no exception. It was fun, getting drunk and playing cards with my fiancé and his brothers, ringing in the new year with my over tired son and niece.
But the expectation that I grew up with wasn’t there. I suppose I allowed myself to put such a high level of excitement on New Years that I can almost never live up to it. Or maybe society as a whole shouldn’t make the new year out to be a huge deal. After all; it happens every year.
Anyways. My ‘new year’ is usually in September. I always found it relaxing to start fresh each and every school year. With new school goals, and new school supplies. It’s my favourite time of year.