Unsurprisingly, I don’t really do New Year’s Eve. Partly it’s that whole “Everyone else does it, so I don’t” thing I’ve written about before on here, but primarily I just don’t quite get the whole concept. OK, we go from [old year] to [new year]. Big whoop. I get it – or at least more so – with birthdays, the anniversal thing of being another year older. (Or, more pessimistically, the celebration of having got through another shit year) But celebrating a new year leaves me cold – let alone the whole ‘resolutions’ thing.
I suppose it makes sense in a “The new one will be better than the old one” spirit of hope and optimism over [x] years of experience, although one assumes that leaves most people really quite disappointed.
I’ve never been a fan of it though – I did too many New Year’s Eves working in pubs, dealing with pissed idiots singing “Auld Lang Syne” and being all ‘love thy fellow man’ at midnight, and kicking the shit out of each other by quarter-past. New Year’s loses its happy glow when you’re sat (for the third year running) waiting for an ambulance by half-past.
I know, I’m a grouchy old sod. I accept that about myself, and try to stop it from affecting others, and their decisions.
All the same, I’ll be quite contented tonight to be at home, just doing my own thing.
Have a good one, wherever you are, and whatever you choose to do.