I’ll be honest, I haven’t a feckin clue what I’m at. Is it 2015? How did that happen? The last thing I remember was drinking Feuerzangebowle and singing in front of a restaurant of people in the Austrian Alps with some Germans and Irish nutters, the next thing I know I’m hurtling towards 30 with alarming speed and a more alarming lack of alacrity.
Yes, 2015 is the year it all goes south. The general plan was to hide under my duvet with a bottle of wine, some supplies and the director’s cut of the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and wait it out. Unfortunately, powers greater than I (or friends, as such) decree that it shall be otherwise. I won’t go into detail (because I don’t have any yet) but suffice it to say, I will not go gentle into that good night and shall rage, rage against the dying of the light/ my twenties.
Oh god, it’s actually happening. I really am turning 30. I think I took it for granted that I would be in my twenties forever. I have three months left. Three! Entering a new year is tough enough without the added stress of what a friend of mine likes to call “our advancing decrepitude”.
It’s like taking a sled down a mountain path, entering a brand new year. There are bumps you don’t see, even when you’re looking straight at them. There are people suddenly in your way, there are twists and bends. There are crashes. Sometimes there is a disturbing and exhilarating lack of control. The thing about sledding down a mountain is you always make it to the bottom. Sometimes you get there on a stretcher, but you still get there. It makes the ride more memorable, certainly, but you’re coming out of it with bruises and cuts.
But enough of that dramatic nonsense. 2015 is the year I get to Rome for some 6 Nations action, head back to Africa for some adventure time, attend the Rugby World Cup and get a new nephew (he’s up first, woo!). There’s a lot happening in the coming twelve months: weddings to attend, rugby to watch, photos of elephants to take, the opening scene from The Lion King to recreate in the Namibian desert. My friend I’m travelling with doesn’t remember that scene (I know: what?!) but I made him promise we’d do it anyway.
So, 2015 won’t be so bad. At least it will be better than 2014. I mean, it already is and it’s only five days in. Yes, 2014 was a bollox but 2014 is over. What did 2014 have? Some good stuff, admittedly. New jobs, new friends, some travel and some new people, but quite a bit I am happy to leave there.
I am not one for New Year’s resolutions. I find I disappoint myself enough in a general way, I’d rather not get too specific about listing my failures. This year, however, I have made a pact with myself: I will let go more. I can be a little bit of a control freak when it comes to… my… emotions? Maybe it’s more situational. I tend to rationalise things. This year, I will be more open to thing and people and… stuff.
I’m working on it.
Here’s to 2015 – may it kick 2014 up the hole!
P.S. 1995 was twenty years ago?? REALLY?! Back under the duvet I go.