New Year’s Eve 2014 –

I found myself unexpectedly alone on this supposedly super-significant day. I’d had a nice tea-time get-together with old friends, so I had leftovers with me. At the supermarket on the way home, when the inevitable became increasingly obvious, I topped up the food stash with cheap junk and mid-priced wine.

There is a sense of anticipation about New Year’s Eves, no matter how blase one tries to be. I was excited – New Year! (I was job hunting after graduation) and – first time alone on NYE! (would I spontaneously burst into tears as the fireworks go off?). To take a quick flip to the end of the chapter, I didn’t cry at all, and I found a job a few months later.

But that night, the last of something and the start of another, possibilities felt so powerful that I was anxious about how I could make the most of it. I ate my rather horrifying dinner, cracked open the wine (an ill-advised Moscato) and got online. At first I watched stand-ups on Youtube, but when chuckling quietly alone seemed a bit too pathetic, I switched over to Photoshop tutorials. Midnight came and went, and by the time I had transformed my mom and grandma’s 1958 sepia coloured photo into a coloured one, it was 4am, and all pressures of the “potentials” in new beginnings had evaporated. Then it was just another new morning, like every other new morning – equally beautiful and important.

I cuddled my cats and went to sleep.


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