My son is on the back row (next to me). He is very irreverent. Case in point: this time of year I have lovely large Pottery Barn letters leaning up against the wall of my entry that spell NOEL.
Homer junior, twink that he is, changes them to spell LEON. Sigh. But enough about twinks. I want to talk about January.
I’m not much of a goal-setter, but I do get jazzed about January. I like new things, fresh starts. Mostly I like when Christmas is over. I love Christmas, I do! I love the shopping, the baking, the wrapping, the parties, the music, the tree, the gifts, the noise, even the inevitable 5 pounds. I love it, love it, love it all. December is like a vacation for me, but it’s the kind that you come home from needing a vacation, if you know what I mean.
Now I’m a writer at the cellular level, so when I don’t write—and I don’t write much in December—I go through a little withdrawal, even at this, the jolliest time of the year. To temper the shakes, I have post-it notes everywhere—some with a single word meant to spark a scintillating thought that struck me in passing. I have notes-to-self on the backs of unpaid bills and a little scraps of paper filled with overheard conversations that are none of my business, but that might end up in a story nonetheless. I scribble on receipts ideas that come to me while I wait in long lines at the grocery store.(Of course that’s after I’ve feasted on the news-of-the-day shouting at me from the mag rack–What??? Another Kardashian with relationship issues–those poor gals can’t get a break!) I’ve even captured the essence of a few stellar characters while waiting to pay for my OJ and motor oil. (You don’t think it’s creepy to take secret pics of the unsuspecting who really should not be out in public, do you? Good. Me neither.)
So, in preparation for the big new beginning that is January, I will clear away the last remnants of this happy season and haul it all downstairs. I will call to have my carpets cleaned and my lights taken down. I will box up the stemware and good china. I will de-tinsel everything and then I will mop my floor.
Lastly I will put LEON in a box.
Then–drum-roll, please. First thing January 2, (well, right after the gym—please refer to the afore mentioned five pounds), armed with a folder stuffed with small pieces of paper that will undoubtedly trigger brilliance in me, I will hit the keyboard running.
Oh yeah, baby! Bring it on. She’s locked and loaded for 2014.