I was raised that you bring in the New Year at peak of Youness. This meant your house was spotless, you were groomed to Red Carpet Readiness, and all your business was handled. You brought in the year as you intended for the rest of it to go.
This year I rung in the New Year lying on a couch in my jammies, mentally floaty due to pain medications. In fact, I had to set my alarm to ensure I would be awake for the ball drop. The Old me would have lamented that my 2011 was going to suck out loud and that I might as well not try.
But I thought about it. I’ve been New Year Ready for most of my 31 years, and that perfection lasts 3 weeks tops. I’ve had varying levels of success, but I’m sure it had nothing to do with my perfect outfit or my pristine closet — though I do long for both.
Due to my tooth, I had to research, I had to be proactive (I don’t believe I’ve ever scheduled so many appointments in one go before), I had to adapt knowing I couldn’t do things the way they needed to be done. Again, I’ve had varying levels of success, but this time, I didn’t feel a crushing sense of failure. And that has made all the difference.